I'm sure you're desperately sick of hearing about my writing by now, but nevertheless. I have finally written a story where the heroine, in a moment of desperate peril, on a runaway horse, can legitimately find herself thinking "It’s a math problem. If a horse traveling at twenty-six miles an hour going west is intercepted by a horse traveling at twenty-nine miles an hour going northwest, will the point where their paths cross be before or after the first horse breaks its rider’s neck?"
I can die happy now. I have achieved my ultimate victory over story problems. My life is complete.
25, 909 words, and counting.
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