
...aside from contracting a hopefully temporary case of Internet leprosy. Still, at least I'm in good company.;)
In true tales of work, "[Anasazi]" grew by 2,392 words, closing off section three. The rest is falling in place with surprising ease. I'm not sure it's really going to work for the deadline I had in mind, but even if it doesn't, I'm still glad I decided to pick working on this as my Chapter Nine vacation.
Otherwise: Thanks to the magic of the library, I've managed to blow through three of the books in Charlaine Harris' new series about Harper Connelly, a woman who was struck by lightning as a girl, rendering her a "human geiger-counter" permanently attuned to dead bodies. Harper's very much the anti-Sookie, understandably morose, full of aches and pains and not-exactly-inexplicable fears--she moves around constantly, has a dysfunctional extended family, and is constantly pulled between the creepier aspects of her work vs. the extremely welcome money it brings in. After all, she was raised in a trailer park by two addicts, and though this is the only job she can really be expected to hold down, it's also a shifting morass of moral dilemmas mired in other people's grief and anger issues. Good stuff, so far.
Okay, back to the outlining, followed by maybe one more episode of A:TLA. I need to brush up on doin cultural appropriation rite, for future reference.