Right now, I am The Greatest Writer In The World.

For some reason, I actually felt like writing today, and---for a miracle---enjoyed the experience. It's a story that's been creeping 'round my mind for some time now, and although what I wrote today was the merest beginning, I'm in love with it. The speech has accent when it needs it, the story is subtle and spinning delicately beneath my fingers. It's splendid.

Wish I could share it, actually, but it's really too slim a slice of prose to mean much. ...And it's backstory to some of the characters in a_fair_hand, so to share it would mean spoiling some of the surprises coming in Isabele's next few letters.

Regardless, I am so very, very happy to be writing something I enjoy again. For the past year or so, everything I've written has felt like the Same Old Thing. I write with my own voice, which I suppose is good, but sometimes I just get sick of the sound of my own voice. But this...well, it's not my voice. It's the characters' voices, instead.

.........................