Winter. Because sometimes fact and fiction share a few details, and freeze us out between them. Thankfully, I suppose, scenes in my next book at least allow me to begin prodding beyond the frost. And when I wake up to bright beautiful sunlight, and see its gauges then sprout such blasphemies to me as “0″, I become all the more determined to scribble-scribble-scribble my way through it in a hurry. So, I suppose it serves a productive purpose.
Stay warm today, everyone. It’s frigid.