Flu? What flu?

Oh, that flu. It’s gone. History.

Which is to say, I’m through its active phase. The ME fallout from it might last months, or maybe only a week. We shall see.

I’m easing myself back into writing new Sky Train words. Still loving this space western story. The characters are getting deeper all the time and I’m also making notes for the sequels as ideas occur.

Right now, though, I’m having a nostalgic moment.

A slow week can still be a good week

Photo by Uğur GürcüoğluSky Train is up near 30k and I’m pleased with last week’s work. I spent four long evenings on a single chapter, which is a new POV character’s introduction in the form of a sort of flashback.

He wants to be an MC’s love interest, and to overcome her mistrust of strangers he tells her his secret story. He’s the leader of a Quaker-like travelling religious group now, but in the war he was a sniper. And his secret is a big one. He’s trusting her with his life.

So I was researching sniper tactics and counter-tactics, and writing an op, and it was a slow process, and that felt perfect because everything about his old job is slow and ultra-cautious.

Thursday night I didn’t sleep. Trapped nerve pain was too sharp. I wrote, edited, and polished right the way through until 7 Friday morning, until the chapter was done and I was more pleased with it than I’d expected to be back there in the middle of that painful night.

Then I crashed. ME doesn’t let you pull all-nighters without punishment. I’ve been washed out like a pebble beach all weekend and haven’t even thought of writing anything. Slept a lot, showered when I woke up, ate a bit now and then, but mostly just slept.  No panic though. I know where the story’s going, and once I’m through this fog I’ll dive back in.

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