I'm feeling chatty today. This is another good reason not to join the cult of LJ. No one gets it shoved down their throat if I write six posts in a day.

(Side note: No matter what forum I use, someone is always complaining about the quantity of stuff I write. E-mail, this blog, my political blog, on lists (when I used to be on lists), there's always someone sending me whiny e-mails about how much I talk and talk and talk. This is my space to talk as much as I want. No one's making you come here.)

(I don't know why I felt a bit defensive about that for a minute, but I did.)

(I have many things to say. Many of them may be boring and repetitive but they're my things and I'm going to say them.)

(It could be worse, you know. If I stuck all of this in an e-mail and sent it to you, you'd probably feel compelled to respond. This way, you're off the hook.)

(Okay, major defensive thing going on here. Not sure why. Better just move on.)

For those amusement of those who care, and the irritation of those who don't, I'd like to report that I wrote 7,000 words on the S.E.N. this weekend. Looking back, I find myself amazed that I found the time to eat, sleep, and bathe.

Yesterday? Cold but beautifully sunny. A day made for going out and running around.

Me? Sitting at home with pen in hand or at the keyboard, writing until I had a headache from being so sedentary. (Okay, and from living on coffee and nicotine for ten hours. I didn't do that much eating.)

I've given up caring if the fool thing is good or not. I just want it done Out of my brain.

With a tiny bit of luck, and some free time carved out of the evenings this week, I should have a completed first draft very soon.

All of the written out-of-order scenes, the lines of dialogue tacked onto a blank page until the story gets to where they fit, all of the I moved this, now it needs a different transition scenes, they'll all be connected up. This excites me.

I'm a bit OC, as most of you know. That means I have a compulsive drive to do things like connect up unconnected bits of things. All of those story fragments hanging out there have been driving me bonkers.

The prospect of getting them all connected is as exciting as finishing the story. It feels like finishing the story.

Maybe I can pretend it is finishing the story?

In the arena of other thoughts, same topic, I think that after you've written 65,000 words, you should have a better grasp on your plot than I seem to possess. I'm still in the dark about what's happening or going to happen, to a large extent.

For instance, if you asked me, is there going to be any sex? I'd have to say, I don't know yet.

Is anyone going to die? I'm not sure. Maybe.

Are there any funny bits? One line, so far and it's a smile, not a giggle. The likelihood of more seems remote.

How about UST? I sent it an invitation, but it didn't RSVP. I'm hoping it decides to show up, though.

Is there any particular reason someone would want to read this story? It will make their own stuff look better by comparison.