Screw the 15th.
Should have known I couldn't keep myself from writing for that long. I've ironed out some of the problems with Cover Me, sorted a few character issues, and researched some troublesome crap about which I had no clue. As I mentioned on Facebook last night, in the last 72 hours, I have picked people's brains (and Googled) about intubation, strangulation, smoking crack, concealed weapons permits, aggravated assault charges, tracheotomies, broken noses, concussions, shoulder/ankle holsters, various handguns, bulletproof vests, car theft, and Crown Royal. All for the same book. This certainly isn't the first time I've researched odd things for the purpose of a book, but I must say it's the weirdest combination of "need to know" crap for a single story. And out of all of those things, only one of them was axed from the outline.
Anyway, all of that is sorted, the outline has been rejigged to reflect some major changes, and the main character and I have been having some serious conversations about what happens now. (Oh, stop looking at me like that...if you're reading this blog, you already know I'm nuts. Talking to fictional people shouldn't be a surprise.) Turns out there were several other things I didn't know about him that make a big difference. Damned fickle characters. Why they wait so late in the game to tell us things is beyond me. Scarlett just ran into the same thing...thousands of words into a book, and a character finally tells her a rather significant plot detail. Bastards.
So...tomorrow...
Back in the saddle...
Butt in chair...
Fingers on keyboard...
...and that little word counter to your right will start moving again.
It will.
Because Shannon Leto says so.
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