Hmm... writer's block seems to have set in. But first I'll clear up the fact that there is no such thing as writer's block (weird, huh?). What we call writer's block isn't so much a block as an exhaustion of the spring of ideas. There's no nerve path in the brain that gets clogged up with cholesterol or anything, there just isn't anything left to go through said pathway. In any case. I've been moving Check and Balance (my third novel) towards its conclusion but I'm stuck in the ridiculous situation of having my two main characters stuck in a room with two armed bad guys about to shoot them. It sounds incredibly corny and stereotypical which is bad, bad, bad. But I think it's actually more interesting then it sounds. In any case these two people are tied up and about to be executed; being the main characters, however, they can't simply be executed. But I can't think of any possible way out that doesn't involve the good sherif dropping by for coffee or an Australian sheep farmer materializing or some such randomness. So the obvious solution is to just skip around it and start with what is on the other side. But the fact remains that there is no way out of the room with the two armed Mexicans (it's a long story: 60,000 words long). Well, exhausted inspiration or not I did a lot of writing today which is always a good thing. What's more today was a good day in general. Unless you're one of the poor souls who didn't do the Latin Home Work, in which case you're probably still translating the Schou's revenge. Or copying and pasting it off the Internet. Clever, clever, clever. Well, Alice has returned from the ice-cream trip that I could not attend so I'll go talk to her instead of an insane electronic journal that very few people will ever read. And then maybe I'll try to get Tim Calvert out of that room so he can lead a resistant movement against Fascist America.