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Tantalizingly close to the end of the book. But close is still between a hundred and three hundred pages away. I used to be better at judging how many pages a certain scene or plot would take. I seem to have lost the ability.
The heat has finally broken. Last night’s storm blew in with rain and wind and moved the jet stream around for us. It’s been nearly ninety every morning before eight o’clock. This morning it was not quite seventy. Yea.
Rifling through my old pug desk calendar pages, found a quote I’ll share, then I got to get back to work. Here’s the quote, and no, I have no idea where it’s from, only who the calendar attributes it to. “When the aliens come, I hope they bring their dogs,” Dan Moore. And one more quote from the calendar for I cannot keep all the little pages. “Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring — it was peace.” Milan Kundera.
Okay, I really am going to get back to work now. I’m delaying because I can’t decide if the scene I just started is a rabbit hole (as in Alice in Wonderland) and is leading me astray, or if it’s a plot point I’m going to need later in the final parts of the book. I need to decide and either erase it and stay on track, or embrace it and see where it leads. I’ve found that the difference between a rabbit hole and a brilliant idea is damn small. One often masquerades as the other.