Often the timing isn't right. Maybe I'm standing over a skillet of gravy, and won't step away because biscuits and lumps do not go well together. We're two miles from church, two minutes before the service, and I really can't sneak my laptop into the sanctuary. Or my daughter promises this is her last yodel, and I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.
It is not meant to be.
But occasionally, everything works in my favor. I happen to be in the same room as my computer, trying to increase output on my WIP, and all factors align. I've harnessed the necessary discipline, nothing more pressing snatches my time, and I find it.
My fingers, linked directly to my whirring brain, turn nimble. My creativity is sharp, and it buzzes somewhere within my head. My characters speak; I transcribe. The next scene unfolds, and the words are in reach, ready to be picked and plucked. I step away for a moment, tend to a need, and fall back into place without losing momentum.
The Zone is mine.
(I wish I could own it regularly.)
Tell me about your zone.