The other night, I got on a roll. My fingers were zipping across the keyboard, sped by an inspiration that hasn’t been around very much this year. My recent story was plodding for a bit, but something ignited in me over the weekend. I knew EXACTLY where I needed to go, what needed to happen next, and I sat in front of the computer all night, churning out page after page after page of good, inspired storyline. I swear to God that I hit “save” over and over again, as is my habit when I write. I haven’t touched the story since that night. So, imagine my utter gut-wrenching horror when I opened the document to find it all gone. GONE!! What the hell happened? I keep replaying the writing spree in my head, wondering if I had accidentally deleted the text, but how could I do something like that accidentally? I’m no computer whiz, but I ain’t no dummy either.
Oh, man. I still cannot believe it. I am physically ill right now, two extra heartbeats away from a panic attack. I just keep chanting “It’ll be all right. It’ll be all right. It wasn’t meant to be. Just rewrite it.” Oh. My. Gawd.