Heavily medicated.

   I am now ahead of schedule.  I am leaking, still, and my eyes are blurry, and my legs ache.  Gayleen and Dashiell, our poodle, have rendered me succour in the form of a box of Kleenex with lotion, which is helping to keep my nose attached, and a bewildering variety of lozenges, inhalers and vapourisers.

  I love my Gayleen.

  I am going to keep pushing on tonight for several more hours, I think.

  My plot keeps surprising me, by the way.  Considering I swore I'd never do this without an outline again, it's going quite well from a story persepctive, I think. 

 Normally, these things start strong, and get weaker as the weekend goes on and the writer starts to rush, and to get tired.  I think this book is actually becoming more focused.

  My usual writing style is multiple narrators and story threads that combine to form a larger narrative.  I actually don't know the last time I stayed this long in a particular character's head, or followed such a linear progression of plot.

  It's weird, and its different for me.

  Also, I tend to have a supernatural element in most of what I write, and there's one in this book, but it's questionable.  It might be genuinely supernatural, or someone might just be a liar, or a flake. 

  The ending of this book is ultimately the opposite of what my usual take would be, and I'm curious to see how it comes off.

  I'm taking a break now for forty-five minutes to walk around and rest my hands.

  Despite the cold, I am feeling like this might turn out, provided I get some time to revise tomorrow, to be my strongest 3 day novel.  Not the most fun, to be sure, or the most wildly creative, but the strongest as a novel.

  Cold fall apart on me yet, though. 

  Aand it's time for my Han Solo clip in iTunes, saying "Great, kid.  Don't get cocky."

  Also for another shower.  This time with no fish tank in the tub.