I have a myriad of emotions going on today. So much so that if the men in white were within fifty feet of me, they would no doubt throw my arse in a straight jacket and cart me off. Like most writers, I am bat-crap crazy.
Huge sigh of relief when I sent Speed to my agent. Riley, Parker and company have left my psycho brain alone, no longer torturing me with scenes from their lives. Thanks for that. The thought, (that flittered through my mind like a peice of torn up paper), is that I could actually focus on my life. You know, things like running, work, and mopping the floor. But alas, that is not to be, because as soon as the crew from Speed left, the crew from Black took up residence, roasting weenies on the fires of madness that burns in my cerebral cortex.
Like I said, bat-crap crazy.
So I'm working on another synopsis and trying to get these nuts to leave me alone. Or maybe I'm the nut and my characters are the sane ones.
It's hard to tell.