Just who is writing this thing, anyway?

I've been at my desk for almost two hours and all I have to show for it is a new picture on Facebook, a tweet promising pages today, and a headache.

I'm having a hard time getting into two characters' heads. Okay, maybe three, but one is a minor character, and so I don't think I'll need to get too far into his head. He's going to die soon, anyway. Because I'm mean. Well, no, because it's what happens. I didn't think I wanted it to happen, I'm still not sure I want it to happen, but it's going to.

Weirdness. How is it that a story can branch off into directions I'd never even considered when I started it? I guess it happens frequently, as evidenced by a past blog of mine. I could link to it, but you'll see it if you scroll down, no doubt. It wasn't that long ago.

There are actually a few things going on in the story right now that I hadn't anticipated. It makes me wonder about the creative process. Writers talk about their muses and I always thought it was hooey, till I started to write seriously. I don't think I'm writing this book as much as I'm facilitating it.

Of course, I'm not even doing that much by working on a blog instead of working on the book. So, I'm off. Again.