A packing and shipping job popped up, out of nowhere, and I'm flying to Chicago, Monday morning. Back Tuesday evening. So it looks like my original plan for finishing a first draft of CK by Christmas is back on, instead of getting finished by the 20th. Of course, what's positive is...I can read on the plane, each way. So in reality, I'm swapping days.
Today I worked through 3 chapters, at least, but I'm not happy with the last one I did. It's where Zeke and Carli finally connect in bed...and it doesn't flow. Feels forced. I'm not crazy about Carli's interrogation of Chase, one of Dax's drug dealers, either. So I may need to go back over those.
I know this is just a first draft, but if something's bothering me in the story, as I write, it stops me and I have to make it okay, again. I can't just plow ahead. I'm afraid it will wind up sending me in the wrong direction.
I read a great obituary, today, about Reny Mandel Corren written by her gay son, and it was completely irreverent about her, her life, her children, everything...because that was how she was. Six kids, three husbands, an affair with Larry King, no bullshit, dying in El Paso...it was lovely and kicked me in the butt to make Carli just as wild a character as she.
Which will have to be layered in through other drafts, I guess, because this bitch is still aiming to be tragic, and not in a Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of way. Though that might help.
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