Since I had a doc’s appointment this morning, I went to my second favorite Opium Den to work, which is closer to the doctor’s office. I spent a couple of hours there working on some of the backstory of my WIP, and three people I know from my local Opium Den (Starbucks, to the uninitiated) popped in, one at a time, throughout the morning. It’s like a sickness. An addiction. We roam from Starbucks to Starbucks throughout the town. Anyhow, that means I spent too much time talking and not enough time working.
Once I got home, I got down to business. I love backstory. Always have. I think it comes from having been a therapist–knowing someone’s psychological and social background is sometimes essential to understanding what’s going on with him or her now. (I have to add, because this is a pet argument of mine, that it is not always necessary in therapy to know the origin of a problem. Sometimes delving into the past can be a waste of time and money and completely unecessary to affect change. But I digress).
As I was saying, I’m working on the first section of the backstory, when the mother in my story, Laurel, meets her now deceased husband, Jamie. The chapter’s too long and needs to be tightened, but I feel as though I’m trying to fit a king-sized quilt into a a bag designed for a twin. I get one end in, but the other end pops out. So now it’s 11:33pm, and I’m still working on it. I like it though. I adore Jamie. He’s a good guy. Too bad I have to kill him.
I’m afraid I’m a little punchy from working on this chapter so long today! It’s very hot in my office, but I have the AC turned off and the windows open because I love listening to the frogs outside. They have so many different songs. Together, they sound like an old man snoring in a deep and peaceful sleep. 
I think I’m going to take the knife to this chapter one more time before going to bed. Maybe an axe. More tomorrow. . . .