It's cold outside here in New England; the temperature barely got into the double digits today, and there's snow on the way for the next three days. The house is warm, but the attic, where I do most of my writing, is not. Not so much anyway.
And yet here I am writing, because my outline is coming together, and I'm feeling good about the general flow of the story, and—cold fingers be damned—I am clicking away at my old ergonomic Dell keyboard (even though I write on a Mac) to try to keep that flow going as long as it will before I lose the energy or am forced to go off to bed.
And even that won't stop the writing, for when I am at a point like this, I do a lot of writing in my sleep. Not good writing necessarily (and definitely not good sleep), but writing nevertheless. And despite what it does to my sleep, the dreams will usually propel me into another day when I am champing at the bit to get to the keyboard.
There are usually things in the way. Work, snow, making dinner, more snow, shopping. More snow (I'm not exaggerating; multiple storms this week). It impinges on my keyboard time, but I am writing all the while. It is frustrating, sometimes, to have a great idea for a scene or a plot point or some dialogue and not be able to write it down. At least not without inconveniencing my family (I usually note these things using my phone, but taking a smart phone out when you're shoveling snow in 10-degree weather is a great way to kill the battery).
But the story and the people who populate it continue to fascinate me, and so when I do sit down at the keyboard, the words pour out, and it's slowly forming into a story. When it's done, I hope that you and your kids will find it as exciting as I do.