Fog view. Fog brain. One scene written. Protagonist fleeing from the light into the dark.

Will she find her way back to the light?



I’ve thought long and hard about the novel’s ending and I’ve decided there is only one plausible ending. Bad. Sad. Dark. There will be light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, but she won’t see it. Or maybe she does but too late. Showing the reader how she slides down the slope and away from the light will be the biggest challenge of this project. I will need to make the reader believe that she has not other options left.

Then again… how often does the story take me into a different direction? Everything can change with the first, second, third, fourth round of revisions. But for now, it’s dark.


Will I manage? Maybe. My time in San Francisco has almost come to an end. I’m incredibly sad that I can’t stay and finish the novel here. If I could, I would. In a heartbeat. In less than a heartbeat. I have one consolation: my muse doesn’t do goodbyes so I’m counting on him to travel with me, to think with me, wherever I go.


A writer friend asked if my muse had a name (hers has the most adorable name, but she’ll tell you about it herself some day). Does a muse need a name? I don’t know. I usually call him boy or sir, depending on my mood and how he inspires me, how he keeps me thinking.


I can reveal one other name, though. My protagonist’s name. Sunshine.