Day 23 WC 1861 TWC 55,749

Once again today is yesterday. It had to be. After the final push Sunday night came the inevitable crash: an exhausting day in which I got very little done and spent way too much time in bed sick and on way too much valium. Naturally, then, I woke up at 2 am not exactly raring to go, but at least prepared to choke out a few words. And choke them out I did. The writing is ugly, but oh my, a new character showed up, a lovely Southern grandma who serves tea and Sara Lee poundcake to her guests. The kicker? When they ask how she knows aliens took the house, which they think is a preposterous theory, she calmly speaks the ultimate cliff-hanging end-of-chapter line. Which of course I'm not going to share with you. You have to wait until you pay for your own copy of the book to know what she said, but don't forget, she's more than pretty wallpaper. (what exactly she is, I don't know yet . . . she just dumped this line in my lap. Now I have to figure out what in the world to do with it. Honestly, these people just will not stick to plan, or even the invitation list.)