Well, half of my kitchen sink is missing, stolen by the maintenance man for my building. Why? Because half the pipes were filthy, rusted amalgamations of leaky steel. My sink leaked, badly. Running any water through it, via dishwasher, or just through the main drains, would result in water dumping all over the storage area underneath. Judging by the pipes he showed me, this has been happening for months, and the previous occupant never noticed. I was clued-in by wet garbage bags and the fact that the bottom of the sink cabinet was warped crazily. Well, I guess it’s good I found it before things got really bad. I just hope the guy comes back tomorrow so I can actually use my kitchen sink.
And my book? 235 pages by my last estimate. I figured I’d hit somewhere around 350 pages when I finished everything, but now I’m not so sure. The outline in my head says there’s still at least another 40% remaining, and I’m just now covering Kyle’s dad. Never mind his lessons at The End. Forget about his suspicions about Adriana, and the final confrontation and resolution. I’ve got so much more to elaborate upon, it scares me. Is this why George R. R. Martin finds it impossible to keep a book under 500 pages? Jesus. I could go on like this forever. And this is just the first book of three. And I’ve got the second book up to 60 pages already, and I’m thinking of an outline for the third.
Now if only someone other than me and a few bots and RSS readers would actually… you know, read the damn thing.