A saint walks in a bar

Here's how I write: I bang away at something for weeks or months or years (usually, it's months) until happy accidents start to happen. (Mystery characters appear, bearing plot twists; themes wash up on the river banks; conflict walks in a bar, buys the house a round.) Then I know to plug on. Then I know the thing can be done. And months or years later (usually, it's years), it is. Then I'm done -- and just in time to start revising!

I believe in happy accidents. I believe in Old Man Fate and Blind Joe Luck, and in Lucy of Syracuse, the patron saint of writers. I hope to see them all real soon. But first, so much work to do ...