My tweets

• Sun, 12:05: I hate this story. Hate. It. Only way out is through, I guess.
• Sun, 18:16: Funny how simply reversing the order of two sentences enables me to close this scene & start the next. Took me long enough to figure it out.
• Sun, 21:19: And this damn thing is meandering to a close rather than finishing with a bang. I think I just... confront them with babies and be done.
• Sun, 21:53: I just realized I should bring the butler into this final scene. ARGH. #amwriting
• Sun, 22:10: AHA. THERE you are, you elusive little bugger: the part that ties the whole thing together. About time you decided to show up.
• Sun, 22:19: I don't think I'm going to finish this thing before bedtime. AUGH. Wanted to give it to Hubby for his overnight trip for an alpha read.

THE END.

I have just placed an END at the bottom of the Fleasel Story. Huzzah. Just under 3300 words, and I haven't put Chambliss in that final scene yet, but... I might not. It's a nice little story as it sits; I'll ask my betas if they think he needs to be there.

I went from loathing this story to loving it in the space of a few hours. I've spent most of the writing of this thing flailing around trying to figure out exactly what Alex wants, and the fleasel itself, while amusing, wasn't really enough to carry the story.

But once it became about a man's relationship with his wife, the whole thing came together. I AM WELL PLEASED.

In other news, I didn't place in Q3 of this year's Writers of the Future with Hell's Process Server--all I got was a straight rejection. So weird. I don't even know, anymore. I'll probably send Time-Traveling Ben to Q4; Dave really seems to like him.