When I wrote the title back on the weekend, I thought we were going to take a direct hit. As it turned out, Dorian moved east and tore up the northern Bahamas. All we got here in the center of the state were hefty breezes and occasional rain squalls. But I did write.
Pages and pages, checking the weather channel every so often. Yesterday, I spent updating my genealogy charts, as this new book takes place seventeen years later for the clan on Peace, which means people growing up and more being born. And who mates with whom. And I found I created a character who had not been in earlier books, so I’m trying to figure out how to deal with that,
When a big storm is coming your way, when your town is in the center of the cone of probability, it’s hard to concentrate on anything. At least I couldn’t. I sat staring out the window, watching the trees to see if they were moving, a feeling of unnamed discomfort underneath. When it gets here, I can deal with it, but oh, the waiting.
I’m glad it’s over now, for us here, so I can get back to a normal life. Still watching, to see where she goes. The east coast is a dangerous place to live, any more.