Best. Cheerleaders. Ever.

Yesterday was a good day. I went for a run, I attended part of a meeting, and I wrote 2000 words of my new story. My drive by moment has morphed into a living thing, something that I think will only be a short-story. But we can't always write novels now, can we?

So for much of the day yesterday, I thought about words, how to use them, where to put them, and which ones would come out of my characters' mouths. At the end of the day, I had an almost-finished short story. One that is spattered with cuss words (can you believe that?) but one that my kids would probably also like. What to do? Read it? Or not.

I chose to go ahead and read the first draft to the twins. They sat on the red thinking chair, in the dark, listening to the voices of Len and Barbie. "What happens now, Mom?" they said. "What does that mean? When will we know why he does that?"

Patience, grasshopper. Patience.

By the end of the reading, the girls were excited. "I want to know what happens, Mom. Please?!" Zoe said as she ran up to the bathroom, got ready for bed, and tried one more time. "Can you please let us know what Len does?"

Of course not, I thought. I don't know exactly what Len will do. When I sit down to write, I have a vision, but sometimes that vision doesn't come to fruition. Sometimes, the characters do something I didn't even expect. I said as much to Zoe and Talia, who only replied, "Oh." And then, "Well keep going then, please...we like it!"

Ever need someone on your side? I've got the girls for you.

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