2400 words on The White City today, almost all retconning to make it an actual mystery instead of a series of disconnected murders. This brings me to 20,404 words, total, which means I am two-thirds done with the manuscript. Yay, progress.
Now that is a good day writing. Almost like old times. More of these, please, and I will feel like a real professional again.
tyop du jour: "a broad gin broke across his face"
In other news, God always intended this to be a Jimmy Buffett song.