Working on a story late into the night, I didn’t feel particularly fond of how it came out. It didn’t have the strength I expected of it. The ending, weak and not terribly terrifying didn’t have the effect I wanted.
I’d been working on this story for a week, struggling word after word.
Then a new idea struck. I stayed up and watched the sun rise as it formulated. I went to work and typed it effortlessly, having no idea where or how it would end. But that didn’t slow my pace. The story played like a film and kept running without any assistance on my part.
The story took control of itself and became what it wanted to be.
Those are the stories that resonate with me after I finish them, the ones that leave behind something permanent.