The Joy of Text

I had a great day writing today. I got down another 2000 words or so of my current WIP, and it was an effortless process. One of those days when I just couldn't type fast enough. It isn't always like this, of course. Some days each sentence, each word even, requires thought and effort. But sometimes the whole thing just flows. I barely felt like I was even there, as if I wasn't even doing anything. I mean someone was doing the writing but it didn't feel like it was me. My conscious mind sat in the back seat, doing nothing, maybe chipping in occasionally to spot a spelling mistake or a grammatical screw-up.

It's glorious when it goes like that is it not? You can "work" for hours and it feels like only a few minutes have gone by. You hate to stop. Of course, you need to make the most of it because tomorrow it will be a slog again.

But when it's like this I suppose I can understand how people end up believing they are channeling some other soul, or why artists talk about having a muse that is breathing inspiration into them. Those are just metaphors as far as I'm concerned. Clearly my subconscious mind has been beavering away sorting things out and, when the time came to get it all down, it just splurged out everything it had already come up with. But it still feels pretty miraculous. The human mind is a wonderful thing.