Plotting next Crosspointe book. Again. Some things that have arisen, and yes, these were said out loud to me by me because I can talk out loud to myself. Why? Also, the plotting music started out as Mumford and Sons and then went to Guns and Roses. It seemed to work better. No alcohol yet. So this may all be just me without any extra modifications.
I have an extraneous god. Who has an extraneous god? What do I do with him?
. . . plus the genocide thing is bad. Yay Conflict!
Who will die? People must die, dammit.
—–Took a few minutes to start some tomato basic soup. Calls for chopped onions and diced carrots. Learned that my new knife is very very sharp. Cut the same finger twice, and thank goodness for the fingernail. Am still bleeding. Making an effort not to bleed on the keyboard. Now back to the plotting . . .
Die die die. Crap.