I never would have imagined, after meeting the man, that Patrick O’Lone would allow marriage to sully his reputation. But it’s true, and I’m happy for both him and Sarah. More Surprising, of course, is that Chris Murley is following his example a mere three weeks later. On September 29th, Hillary officially joins the disfunctional family I grudgingly left behind when I moved to Chicago. They’re all growing up so fast, it brings a tear to my eye.
And so Chapter 19 of my first book is starting. Another three, maybe four chapters remain until everything is finished, for good or ill. I’ve entered the endgame, and done terrible, unconscionable things to my characters at this stage, and it’s only going to get worse. It’s necessary, and for the trilogy to continue, absolutely essential I do these things now. I hate foreshadowing for events that won’t happen for two books yet, but I’m not writing this, so much as I’m experiencing each confusing morsel.
I’ve always wondered just how many “words” makes an average printed page, so I looked it up. Apparently that number is roughly 250, with about thirty lines per page. Assuming the average six-by-nine inch book format and a one inch margin, that seems about right. Unfortunately it also means my page count estimates have been the product of pure fantasy.
I took chapter one and formatted it according to what’s normally expected by publishers.
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.
It’s been a long week, and my vacation is finally over. Late Saturday night, early Sunday morning–either tell me it’s a weekend just like any other. I relaxed, I finally got the chance to enjoy Wicked, and I tooled around downtown gulping food I don’t deserve with a woman equally beyond my reach. I got drunk, I got sick, I had fun, and I’ve got little to show for it but some new rattles in my empty head.
