Right brain woke me up at 3 am (after seven hours' sleep, so this was okay) and demanded to write a story. The idea was an offshoot of a conversation between calendula_witch and I yesterday. So from 3 to 5 am, I wrote 3,500 words and finished a draft of "Her Fingers Like Whips, Her Eyes Like Razors", a story about cancer and faerie. Gee, much on my mind?
The part I'm happiest about is this is only the second time I've tried to write from scratch since the surgery in November. Gotten a lot of productive revision and rewriting done, but that's a different process for me. I have no idea if this piece is any good, I'll let my first readers tell me that.
But damn me, I wrote something. And I feel good about it. Fuck cancer.