If only the novel will consent to be written like that, I might actually get it done.
Enough thrashing and drama, book. Thrashing and drama are no way to live.
I still have a cough and Le Tired, but things seem to be improving.
Things I need to do today: clean the floor (unleash the robot, perhaps) and mail some checks that should have been mailed on Monday, but dying got in the way.
The snow of last night has turned into an ice storm, in classic Nor'easter fashion, and all the trees and power lines out my window look glazed. For once, I am glad of living in an apartment, and not having to shovel.
One really interesting thing about the Shadow Unit stuff, and the way it has this network of connections, the character blogs and so on--it's forcing us to develop the characters in ways that usually you don't have to. Because there's all this stuff that happens to people between adventures, and that almost never shows up in books. But most of what real people do is not adventures. It's laundry, and all kinds of half-assed relationships, and the stuff we do on Sunday nights when we're home alone surfing the internet and watching TV with half an ear.
And suddenly I'm working with all these fictional people who have dentist's appointments and have to clean the fish tank, and it's really pretty awesomely cool. It makes them much more real in my head, and I know much more about them than I usually do. Very, very interesting.
But right now, I need to be thinking about Tristen and Perceval and Gavin and company, not these other folks.