82,624 words, 175 words.I muscled past him, finally, and shoved my way out the door. He couldn’t even turn and watch me walk away from him. I could feel myself trembling as I marched down the hall. I was confused and frightened, and now I was an emotional mess. I managed to keep my composure until I rounded the corner and made my way to a different ladies room.I sat down on the couch there, and just cried.The End3/9/2013
I'm addicted to writing. Even though I know that I should be editing the story I want to get published, I can't stop writing. I had to push it off enough to get the third volume of The Faction Stories done, too. But if you gave me a choice, I'd always choose writing.
Every time I finish a story, I get a rush of satisfaction. I guess that's my runner's high. I don't get any satisfaction out of 1/2 an hour on that treadmill, 10 on the bike or figuring out going backwards on the elliptical will work my butt. But finishing a story makes me feel like I am walking on clouds.
So, maybe this is my runner's high. Would that make it a writer's high?
I like the writer's high better; it needs less Aspercreme and Icy Hot.