In de Straten, In de Lucht

Needless to say, in the last twenty-four hours I’ve walked through the aftermath of an ice storm, managed to make it through work without loosing too many brain cells, had dinner, was interviewed as part of a doctoral thesis, wrote eight hundred words for the first new scene of my last chapter of Act One, then headed to bed and had the damnedest dreams which ended with me being forced to fly a woman to Europe so she could track a connection to a drug smuggling operation being run out of an abandoned mental hospital in some unnamed state, after which I kicked back at an outdoor electronica concert held in a square in a town in Belgium, where we drank wine from boxes and sat at school desks while getting on our groove.

I hope you got all that.

"You sorta of lost me at--mental hospital?  Really?"

“You sorta of lost me at–mental hospital? Really?”

That gives you a bit of perspective as to where I’m at this morning, sort of feeling hell-bound and down.  Though I shouldn’t say that, because yesterday–despite all the crap I just laid out above–was pretty sweet.  Walking to and from work was pretty sucky, and these days work just sort of wears me out, but at least I have some energy at night to make it into the novel.

It was flying time for Kerry, wandering through the Flight School hanger with Vicky (I should point that distinction because there is another building on the grounds that’s known as The Hanger, where the science geeks store their smaller flying machines), and they started looking at better PAVs and talking a little broom history, particularly in the area of Witchy Poo.  I also got Vicky to use a phrase that I’ve been wanting to say for some time, and that’s “lovey-dovey”.  There’s a reason for that, and those reasons won’t be apparent to you, but they are apparent to me.

After looking at the chapters I realize that I need to break up my act as I flip from the south end of the school where Kerry is, back to the north side of the school where Annie is, and that means I’ll need three more scenes.  Three more, between two scenes that are already in place, and that’s what I’m going to need to tie it all up.

It’s not a big deal, because these were going to be incorporated as part of the first two scenes I had in place, so it’s only a matter of adding and writing.  No big thing, as they say.  I’ve been tracking drug lords and drinking cheap wine outta boxes in my sleep, so three scenes is gonna be a walk.

I can see the end of this stretch, and it’s leaving me feeling a little barren, because while I know what I want to get into after I wrap Act One, I’m not sure how to go about getting there.  I’ll talk about that later, because, right now, I feel the urge to hop on a PAV and fly to Europe.

These things will do that, you know.