Air brakes

I've posted before that writing Sword and Scabbard is like collecting maple sap. I think a better analogy would be riding the bus: stop and go. You might hit a decent speed for a while, and then it's time for the next stop. I'm so close to the end. I just have one last detail to tie up, and it's not cooperating. That generally means I'm doing it wrong, but I'll be durned if I know how else to do it.

All that positive energy I spread around Terre Haute must have been my store for the month because my brain has been largely non-functional since I got back. I miss thinking. If you've seen Walter the Muse, please send him home.