And so to bed.

Okay. Tom Bradstreet has just met William S. Frankenstein face to face. I am better than a third of the way into the book, and I'm going to bed now.

I have an idea how Tom ends up in that shipping container, but I have no idea what happens when he gets out.

He will almost certainly get out tomorrow. That also means another tense switch.

So I will have to figure that part out, AND cope with present tense.

Unless a solution occurs to me in bed. I expect it may.

Impressions so far?

This is a less ambitious, and more straightforward story than Silver Bullets, but it's ten times more weird and bloody and dark. It's a lot sloppier than Bullets and no wonder. I had the plot totally sketched out for that one, and I could focus on the writing a lot more.

This time it's just a struggle to make a coherent narrative.

I don't think I'll be shortlisting with this one, but there's no shame in that. Considering the prep time i've had, I think it's going well.

Once revised, I think it will make an excellent addition to the Sel Souris cycle of stories. Certainly a major revelation is forthcoming.

And so to bed.