Fat Boy

So I bought a Michael's Fat Boy pen.  Seen Here  I LOVE my cross, but after about an hour, my fingers get scrunchy and tight, and all sweaty.  I find myself stopping about every twenty minutes to wiggle and dry.  I'll let you know how it works (it better frickin write the book itself for that money).

Chapter Nine has been going well.  I didn't get to work on it last night due to a new schedule at work, but I'll be hitting it hard tonight.  

I've been really preoccupied with the idea I've tentatively called "Minuet's Song."  It's gone from girl kidnapped by goblins grows up and has own child kidnapped by goblins, into a freakish nightmare where Minuet, pursuing the goblins who stole her child, enters into NearWorld (not the name I'll use) a shadow world right on top of ours where old gods work the registers of dark and dingy Waffle Houses, and the ghoulish Inhabitants of a town in Colorado celebrate Live Guy In Ice day.  It's sort of a Road Trip story gone really really to a really very bad place....but funny.    I'm trying hard not to distract myself, but ideas keep flying around about it.  It is definitely my next novel...and my first one really aimed at my generation.

Word of the day:  wiggle