Spontaneous Derivation

The night is not young when you eat a very large dinner that you spend an hour digesting. You’d think I’d have learned something from all the folks eating Thanksgiving dinners. Yet another writing tip: do not eat large meals, eat multiple small ones that won’t remove power from your brain and redirect it to your stomach.

That said, I did go through some amount of words; over 10k, which is not great, but at least I had fun. We’ll go for 20k tomorrow. Sigh.

Starting line for this block:

The headquarters of the opposition loomed out of the wheat fields surrounding it, visible as a white mansion from several miles around it, thanks to the ultimate flatness of the land of Kansas.

Endling line:

“Secret passage,” I said. “We’ll hide. This is the key. I’ve got ammo. Do you have hope?”

Graph!

Got to be more careful, people….

The night is young, but not that young, because it’s the Pacific Northwest.

My inspirational song of angst is currently Walter Reed.

I’m the walking wounded
I’d say it to your face
But I can’t find my place

So tell me now, what more do you need?
Take me to Walter Reed tonight
Baby, I’ve lost the will for fighting
Over everything

There’s a few things I gotta say
Make no mistake, I’m mad,
‘Cause every good thing I’ve had
Abandoned me.

A sad and lonesome me.

That is all.

I need to do this three days in a row. I’ll be happy if I can do it for two days and still write on the third.