I’ve got it. The way past the roadblock here in chapter twelve of Apocalypse Pictures Presents. I’ve really got it.
I think.
I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it.
I even made some word count. See?
Magic Meter doesn’t lie, folks. I’m moving forward, finally. I’m gonna get out of this chapter yet, and then into the rest of this rewrite.
OK, yeah, I’m not 100% sure about how this new direction will impact one of my subplots. But I’ve never let a little thing like total uncertainty stop me in the past, and I’m not letting it stop me now.
Hell, I even have a snippet:
Gil felt the moment slipping away from him, felt the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the windows, reminding him how much shooting time they were losing.
“Do you hear how paranoid you sound?” he said. “Seriously? Come on, guys. Conspiracy theories make for great movies, but they don’t hold up in real life.”
No updates for Write Club.
That-a-way.
