I skipped my Thursday post yesterday. After all, why bother? Predictions were that the information would be smashed into smithereens or obliterated in a universal catastrophe. Over a great soup and salad luncheon in a friend’s home decked out for the holidays, I had polled my novelist critique group about whether to kill my antagonist. Such an obnoxious, cruel guy, they agreed to bump him off so he gets what’s he deserves and doesn’t appear in any sequels. I postponed edits since my manuscript might disintegrate with the Mayan calendar and all my efforts be wasted.
I awoke this morning at 4:45 a.m., an hour before my alarm. Too soon to get up, not enough time to go back to sleep. My first thoughts, I’m still here, shifted to focus on how to eliminate my antagonist. Instead, on Winter Solstice, I’ll give him one more day to survive while I do some Christmas shopping.