🥱 ☕ I’m close to wrapping up my second draft, and the end of A View to Die For is coming into focus. My subconscious must have been busy while I slept. I woke up with questions in need of answering. “Why did so-and-so do X instead of Y?” “Why didn’t so-and-so do Z?” With so many moving parts, it’s important that every character action is natural, arising from who they are and what they want.

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Happy hump day! I’m working hard this week. The final third of my murder mystery is too smooshy, so I’m carefully unwinding plot threads, laying them out, and rewinding them in a clearer fashion. This requires all my focus. Yesterday, during our mid-day walk, P & I were careful not to chat about anything too involved, because I had all this story held carefully in my memory like a half-woven tapestry.

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The city is cast in silver today. Glass and steel, shining. Winter light. White gulls circle atop an air current a mile away, looking like bits of flotsam circling a drain. Their high-pitched conversation carries on the wind, through the window, and into my ear. Tiny tempests blew through our neighborhood yesterday. Snow. Torrential Rain. Intense Wind. Sideways hail blasted our faces during our walk, sharp and cold. Today, I see hints of blue sky overhead.

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