The scene rose up around me and pulled me down into it today — it started with my main character doing her job in the present while worrying about the things going on around her that are life-or-death, and that she cannot control, or help with, or make better in any way — and from her frustration and helplessness, it ended with a clear memory of an ancient battle on a hill, with naked men tattooed blue who charged down a hill, led by a woman on a horse. They drove into hell at a dead run to take on the greatest army the world had ever known.
The scene (and the scene within the scene) flew, and I flew with it.
Hit my goal with a bit extra, and like what I got.
Whether I still do when I get to the revision remains, as always, to be seen.
But today was a good writing day.
Summer of Fiction Writing, Work Day 2.
