I dunno about you, fellow writers, but there are days–okay, whole weeks, months, and even years–when the writing doesn’t flow. It’s a strain and a slog, and each sentence struggles to be born like a breach baby. Sometimes, for all that, the results are pretty damn good. LAST CHANCE LLAMA RANCH was frequently that way. When I was writing it, under deadline and distracted by a shit-ton of personal crap, there were days I hated my job and had to rely on craft rather than inspiration, though I still feel it’s the best work I’ve ever done.

But man, the days when it comes easy are what it’s all about.

For the first time in months, I had a day like that yesterday. I’d fought to eke out a single paragraph a day for weeks, and suddenly, boom, five pages in an hour. Five good pages; pages that advanced the story and brought depth and poignancy to the characters. Fuck, that feels good. I wish all days could be like that.  But I’ll take them when they come.