That's right, it was one year ago today that I was welcomed to the orgy, and what a year it's been. It's been quite a good year, and I'm glad I lived it and wrote about a good portion of it here.

Here's to another year.

Spent several hours last night having Braxton-Hicks contractions. WHAT? I don't recall having such an experience with Avadore. They probably started about nine and went until about two. After a few hours, I was pretty sure they weren't regular (and they didn't feel completely right -- they didn't radiate from my back, etc.), but I started timing them anyway since I'd prefer not to have a baby in my bedroom. Because I couldn't sleep (I mean really -- who can sleep through such things?), I got an idea for a story and outlined it, which is a very good thing to do when you can't sleep and the little green inspiration fairies come and pay a visit. (They tend to do this when I go to bed and should be sleeping -- we really need to renegotiate their hours.)

Which leads to another question. Why is it that some stories take a year or so (you know, like a couple of decades) to figure out and write while others come quickly, huge shots of inspiration and insight, and are written in a few hours? I'm sure I'm not the only one who experiences this (and it's the former more often than the latter, that's for sure), but I don't like it very much. I'm lazy -- I don't want my stories to fight with me over what's going to happen and why for months and months. It's just not any fun at all.

Time to write.