Progress Report, in which I share the wisdom of Jeff Goldblum

Inching forward with the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite, closing out chapter fourteen and beginning an almost entirely new chapter fifteen.  Some 1200 words brings Magic Meter here:

In case anyone’s wondering, drafting a new chapter when you’re in the middle of a second draft is . . . something other than easy.  No wonder I’ve been avoiding this for so long.  I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.  Or fun.  As Jeff Goldblum says in Jurassic Park, I hate being right all the time.

Man, the things we writers do to ourselves.

Anyway, a snippet:

[A]ll the scrabbling through this dusty, scratchy land, sliding down steep clefts and clambering back up the other side, had left him sweaty, footsore, and thirsty.  He’d had nothing to drink since the lake.  The hot sun hammered him, and the landscape provided very little cover.

Eddie glanced skyward.  The sun swung toward the west in a pale blue sky.  A haze hung in the air.  And three large birds, black against the sky, circled directly overhead.  Condors.

Eddie sneered and extended his middle finger toward them.  If they thought they’d found a meal, they were in for bitter disappointment.  The ridgeline to the east led straight to his destination:  the Hollywood sign, still glorious white, atop Mount Lee.  He was maybe half a mile away from it.

No updates for Write Club.

Up ahead:  more words.  And they won’t just write themselves, drat them.

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