And then, there's a bearded fetus.

Didn't have the best connection when this all went down, and so remain for the most part ignorant of the context. But in the meantime, my brain kept percolating on the WIPs I've read, and continue to read and specifically on the whys of loving them.

WIPs are stories that still feel alive. I can anticipate what's yet to come, like figuring out a mystery or resolving a complicated situation into a simple explanation -- and with the best WIPs (of which I'm sure you and nilchance have written many, but I'm only desperately attached to two) even if I have to set aside future tangents devised only in my head, it's okay because what actually happens is oftentimes even better. When long-held expectations are met, then exceeded, it can lift my spirit for days.

Meanwhile, because I'm not hurtling towards a conclusion (i.e. skimming over details) I can take the time to revel and enjoy the writing, or imagery, or ... whatever little treasures I stumble across on the journey.

BTW - thanks also for the Neil Gaiman link.