Still not done.  Still a little more.  Still so satisfying.  

Had a hard time yesterday at the Elevenses Hobbit Party.  They were readers, talking about books, and talking about how writers do it.  

I had to restrain myself.  

"You know I wanted to speak up," I told my wife later.

"Save it for your writers' group," she replied.  

I had limited myself to simply saying to the collected readers, "Many writers say it just passes through them."  That' exactly how I often feel.  I've tuned into something happening somewhere that I'm witnessing.  I'm merely transcribing the action, including the speaking, thinking, and setting.  

Finding it seems the harder part.  No, wait, tuning into it seems the hardest part.  No, finding the right words to impart the story seems the hardest part.

It's all hard;  it's all easy.  It's uneven and even.  

The current character and I are now on very intimate terms.  His story has unrolled through my mind.  Telling his story has become my life.  So my life is his story.

One of us depends upon the other.

If I had not found his story, would someone else have found it?  Likely.  Would they have told it the same way?  Probably not.  How you tune in and select the words is part of relating the story.  

So I'm still...almost...done...with this tale.  I so want to finish that last word.  It's not that I'm impatient.  I am impatient and I have other things to go on, yes, but that's my nature.  No, this desire to finish this story is still a matter of being excited about telling this story and sharing it.  

But...my coffee is done.  I've been here for hours.  My butt is asleep.  I have to use the restroom, walk home and spend time with my wife.  The writing day has been paused.  

Because I've thought about it.  The writing day never really ends.  Even when not at the keyboard or with paper and pen in hand, I'm always tuning into the story and searching for the words because it's anothers' life and his tale being related.  Beyond that, I'm not trapped by one story.  Even as I finish this story, there are just so...many...stories still to be found and told.  Each one is so much fun to find and tell.  I have four or five others already in progress.  They're waiting to be finished.  

That's why the writing day is so satisfying.  It never ends, even as the date and year changes, and new stories emerge.  There's always a story to be written.