It Is Finished.

On a humid summer evening in August of last year, I sat down and wrote the prologue of my novel. I didn't know it was the prologue until I'd finished it, because I hadn't considered writing a book until only a few weeks before this particular evening. I put a song on repeat and wrote until the images in my head were perfectly recorded, then sat back and read those nine pages over and over.

I can do this, I thought. I can write a book. I know it.

Now, ten months to the day, 428 pages, and 124,000 words later, my first novel is complete.

It's the best thing I've ever written in my life. Even if it never sells, I'll still love it forever and be so proud of my work. I've learned so much with this experience, and I just can't wait to keep on going down the path of my career as a writer. This has been the most exhilarating work I've ever done.

I'm so filled with gratitude that it's leaking out of my eyes a little. I just can't help it.

Thanks, Universe.

And now... I think it's party time, friends. Care to join me?

Reset Button

Hello, friends!

I've been absent from the internet for the past few days because I've been out of town. I went to the coast to celebrate a friend's upcoming marriage and we had a fantastic time. It was something I didn't know how much I needed until I was back home and thinking about how much better I felt after unplugging from everything for four days.

I've been living in my own little thundercloud for the past six weeks or so, and I didn't even realize how much the storm had consumed me until I was suddenly away from it with no way to get to a phone or the internet. Instead of the panic I was expecting, all I felt was a blessed form of relief. On the way home (a four hour drive by myself), I did a lot of thinking about my current situation - with the book, the Clark Kent job, everything. Being away from the whole scene helped me see how much I've been stressing out about everything, from word count to work duties, and how much of a toll it's taken on me. At least half of stress is perception based - you may not be able to change your stressors, but you can choose how you react to them - and I'm so grateful that I was given a chance to see that I need to change my perceptions about my daily life.

Instead of beating myself over the head with the goal of finishing the book by the end of May, I'm being a lot more kind to myself and rejoicing in how much work's been done. I know I'll finish, and probably within the time frame I've given myself - but I no longer feel as if I've failed or am in danger of failing an important task I've given to myself. The Clark Kent job does not feel like a prison sentence; it seems like a gift again. I'm refreshed and ready to finish this novel and get on to the next step in my life.

And when I got home, I saw so many lovely people have passed on my Pay it Forward giveaway on their blogs, twitter and Facebook! How incredible! You guys are an inspiration! It was amazing to see how things had progressed in the four days I was gone. Not only did more than ten people blog about the giveaway, but I also now have 121 followers! Only four more 'til the MYSTERY PRIZE is included in the booty list! (Booty list... now that was just fun to type, heh).

Are you stressing about something right now? Is it weighing down on you, or racing through your mind, keeping you from being calm? I know you might not be able to physically get away like I did this weekend, but try to mentally take a step back from that stress and see if you can take a different approach to the problem. Breathe - in through the nose for a four-count, hold it for a seven-count, let it out slowly through your mouth for an eight-count. Feel better? Need to vent? The comments section is always open.

Update on the Novel, Take 2

I'm sequestering myself away from the world today. Only stepping out into the internet for a couple of moments, to post on Facebook and give you guys, my amazing group of blogfriends, a much-needed update on the progress of the novel.

For those of you that aren't aware, I've been working on my WIP for several months now, and am nearing its completion. It's been an exhilarating and exhausting experience. This is my first full-length novel and I'm scratched and bruised but have escaped serious injury so far... and I'm having the time of my life. I've learned a lot of things about myself as a writer with this project. Like the fact that I'm not really a short story writer and have been long-distance writing all this time without even knowing it. Or the fact that I'm an extremely linear storyteller and want to plow through the story scene by scene instead of skipping around to write the parts I'm excited about. And the knowledge that my characters have stopped being words on a page and have started being thinking, breathing creatures which I created with my own mind and determination... now that was a killer realization (no pun intended, heh).

I set my book in the South, because I live in South Carolina and I'm frickin in love with this place. It's got a deep mystery which has barely been hinted at in fiction, and I thought it would be the perfect place to set my horror novel. The story is about a man who's trying to reach his dead wife through an old woman who has supernatural abilities. There's a lot more to it than that, of course - like the telepathic cop who's the brother of the dead wife, the peach orchard which was a second home to the bereaved husband, the mysterious murder of a local on a stormy summer night, and the dark entity which manipulates and influences the old woman to stir up a horrifying situation - but that's the basic gist.

Now I'm to the most important part of the book - the next three or four chapters are going to be pivotal and critical to the story. To be honest I'm intimidated by them. There's so much I have to put out there, and I want to get every bit of it right. (Perfectionist much? Sigh.) Really, I just want to make sure I do the story justice. This is the point which people will have been reading the whole book for, and I want it to be as scary and as riveting as it is in my imagination. I'm hoping I can carve out quite a bit of it today and tomorrow during my little writer's retreat in my bedroom - no TV, no phone, no internet, etc - and if you guys get a chance today, send me some positive vibes, ok?

I have 290 pages and 84,000 words. My goal is to reach 100,000 by the first of May. I still think I can do this. I don't believe the story will be finished by 100,000 words, though - I think it'll surpass that by at least a few thousand words. The initial goal I set was to have reached 100K by May 1st, though, so I'm not going to worry too much about whether or not it's finished on the first. I will have it completed sometime in the month of May. And believe me, there will be a PARTY when it's done. All of you are invited too. Hell, I just might throw a contest as well.

Thanks to all my blogger friends who're continually offering support and encouragement through this crazy project. You guys keep me going and you're invaluable. I wish you the best and major success with all the projects you're working on.

All that being said... happy Saturday, y'all!

Knock-Down Drag-Out

The two halves of my brain have been fighting lately.

Well, maybe "halves" isn't appropriate - it's not like the left and right hemispheres of my brain are warring with each other. I can still read and write and fake math problems with a calculator (as long as they're not more than elementary math, heh). But I do have two distinct sections of my brain devoted to work - one side for the Clark Kent job, which is a sales and marketing position, and the other for my writing career.

As you guys know, there's a lot more to a writing career than just making things up and writing 'em down - there's also blogging, which takes up a couple hours a day (it's not the posting that's the time-suck so much as reading other blogs and commenting), revising and editing, reading my writing colleagues' work and commenting/offering suggestions, and a hundred other miscellaneous tasks which I take on with joy. You feel me, don'tcha? Sure you do.

The regular-paying job is completely different - I go out on sales calls, book events, talk with clients, send emails, compile sales reports, build spreadsheets, organize mailouts, distribute fliers and coupons, set up corporate sponsorships, design ads, network with local businesses... well, you get the idea. "Sales Director" is the title, and it's a huge umbrella which a lot of different responsibilities fall under. Lately we've lost a few people at the bowling center, so I'm also pulling extra shifts and wearing a manager hat, as well.

You guys know I've been working on the novel diligently and want to have it finished by the first of May. (Which reminds me, I need to work in a status update for y'all - just gotta figure out which letter of the alphabet I can use, right, Arlee? Ha!) Since I've been working so much over the last few weeks, the forward momentum has really slowed down and it's now a struggle to produce as much as I want. I'm just so tired when I get home, I don't even want to do anything but collapse and sleep. Not even zone or watch television or anything... just sleep.

I'm frustrated. I don't have a choice about working for a living right now, and I refuse to stop writing. But the regular-paying job is sucking up my energy reserves and my headspace right now. This is why I got out of Corporate America! So I could have a low-stress job which - while it may not pay much - gives me the time and brain capacity I need to really focus on what's important to me professionally (which has absolutely nothing to do with the bowling industry).

I just want to WRITE. Sometimes I wish I could flash forward a year or two, and get past all this stress (especially the pressure I keep putting on myself to complete the WIP and stay on my timeline for going down to the SC Writers' Conference in October). I've worked every day for the last two weeks, and I'm burned out. The two parts of my brain respectively dedicated to my job and my career (two entirely different things) are fighting constantly, bickering and sniping at each other. Sooner or later they'll have a knock-down drag-out fight. It's ok, though.

I already know who's gonna win.

How about you? This was primarily a "venting" kinda post... got anything that's really frustrating you at the moment? Need to have a knock-down drag-out with yourself about something? Feel free to get it off your chest.

Eating the Elephant

My entries lately have been of the go-go-go-cheer-yay-write variety. I hope I'm not becoming repetitive. I don't plan many blogs; even the A to Z challenge is mostly off the cuff. So my entries naturally gravitate towards what I need/want to hear as a writer. And right now I need all the encouragement I can get. I feel like that person who's been hiking for 87 miles on a hundred-mile trail. Sore. Tired. Starting to wonder why I'm doing this in the first place. Good things too... grateful. Inspired. Proud of the work I've done so far. But it's close to being done, and I guess we all go through this in one form or another at different points in our individual writing processes.

Which brings me to the old adage: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. I have to keep reminding myself of this metaphor lately. I want it to be DONE. I'm ready to get it into its proverbial bottom drawer and let it breathe. I love the universe and characters I've created, but my brain is yelling for a rest, and then something new. I'm committed to getting this finished, and I don't want to set it aside now - the story's hot, and I'm afraid if I stop now and come back in a few weeks I won't be able to finish. But working on the book plus all the rest of the stress in my life is really starting to wear me down.

It's times like this I remind myself of Lester Burnham's words in American Beauty:

"Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life."

Right?

I've gotten here one chapter at a time. One page at a time. One paragraph at a time. One sentence, one word, one letter at a time. It's not going to materialize on the page by itself. I need to make it happen. But it's going to happen in its own time. This elephant has been vanishing bite by bite. Now I've got a little bit left... it's daunting, but I'm determined to finish the whole damn thing.

What do you do to remind yourself of how far you've come? How do you sustain your enthusiasm for a long-term project? What kinds of things do you do for yourself to encourage completion of a long WIP?

Coercing the Muse

On Wednesday my friend Watery Tart talked about Neglected Muses at her blog. She named some ways you can piss off your muse and make it not want to come around, and talked about how to be kind when it's around. It's a great entry, and you should go read it now. Don't worry, I'll wait.

OK. Done? Good.

This made me think about what I do to lure my muse into my writing room. I used to try to force it. I tempted her with blank pages, great music, the perfect arrangement of pillows in my writing space. But my muse was a fickle bitch for a long time. She'd whisper in my ear just before I was falling asleep, then run away, giggling. Or, she'd give me one or two lines of poetry and then just stop, refusing to talk, smiling her infuriatingly enigmatic smile. BAAAH!! So frustrating.

I've been thinking, and I've realized that one of the reasons my muse was so tricky for so long is because she wasn't really interested in the work I was doing at the time. Short stories are fun, she says in her lilting, musical voice, and I love poetry - it's in my blood, I AM related to Calliope, after all - but can't you write something... longer?

Of course I constantly blew her off for years about long-term projects, but she kept handing me ideas that could easily be turned into books. My first published short story, "Avenue of Dust", is about a man who starts the end of the human race by administering some kind of poison into the water system of Paris. The story's not very long, maybe ten or twelve pages - but everyone who's read it cries out to know what happens next. "Does Frank get away and get back to the states?" they ask. "Do they find a cure? Does everybody die?" I always say, "I dunno, what do you think?" in return to these questions. (In truth, I think almost everybody died, including Frank, but that's a whole other story... eh... novel... right?)

Other stories are also little snippets in a larger tale. My poor muse! All this time, I've been feeding her short rations. Until the last nine months or so. And let me tell you, when you finally give a muse exactly what she wants, she doesn't want to leave. She's not teasing or tricksy. She loves you and appreciates what you do for her - after all, you give sound to her voice. You're the medium she chooses to work in. Once you prove it to her that you're not going to quit, she will open up and give you an entire universe of ideas.

But you have to take care of her. You have to remember to give her what she wants and needs, or you'll end up just as frustrated as she is. Tempt her with the things she wants. Is it a long, freestyle lyrical poem she wants to dictate to you? Maybe a screenplay! Or maybe she wants you to paint tonight instead? Listen to her. She'll tell you what you're supposed to do. And the best way to coerce a muse into giving you inspiration? Offer yourself and your talents to her, and be open to whatever she suggests. It gets easier once you start practicing this on a regular basis. Don't fight it. Don't force it. She'll let you know what it is.

And when she does, it'll be amazing.

Beating Self-Doubt

It took me a long time to decide to write a book.

I've been writing for most of my life (since I was four or so). Over the years, especially in my school career, I've written more short stories and poems than I can remember. I went to Governor's School in 1991 and 1993, and went to college on a writing scholarship (a fun but short-lived higher education experience; I left college a year and a half after I started). After college, I kept writing, but didn't get serious about it for several years. When I finally started writing again in the spring of 2000 - this time for an online writing contest at the ACW Club, I wasn't sure if I still had the knack for making things up and writing 'em down. I won the first contest I entered, and two more after that, so my confidence was bolstered and I kept writing stories here and there, never considering sending them out for serious consideration by writing markets.

Until I met my fellow writing compatriot and Reedy River Rat Gail Gray, I'd only gotten the courage to send one of my stories out for publication. I sent it to ten different markets and got rejected ten times. After that I gave up submitting for a while, until Gail convinced me I should try again. The self-doubt was overwhelming, but I finally did it... and to my surprise, the piece was accepted.

What a rush! The self-doubt got beaten back into a corner, squealing in pain (but still alive, oh yes, it's almost impossible to kill - like some kind of mental cockroach *shudders*). I started sending out more pieces, and found a few more homes for my stories. This bolstered my confidence even more, and I realized one day about a year after the first acceptance that I was writing all the time. Short stories and poems, mostly, but still good stuff. I was attending a regular writers' meeting and the quality of my work got better and better. "You should write a book," they told me. "It would be amazing!" Every time I'd bring a new short story to the table, Gail would tell me, "You could turn this into a novel." (Seems like I've been long-distance writing my whole life and didn't know it, heh.)

But still the self-doubt remained. I never finish anything long-term, the self-doubt said disparagingly. I'll just get so far into it and quit. Or that's just too long of a project, the self-doubt would whisper. Why work on something that'll take at least a year to finish and then never get published?

The prologue of the novel came to me one night in early August, and after composing it in a white-hot fever of creativity, I sat back and read over those first few pages, wondering to myself, can I keep this going? Can I actually write a book? Is there enough in this story to make it believable and entertaining? Is this something I...

"Oh, quit it already," I said to myself. "Just do it, for God's sake." For a wonder, the self-doubt shut its mouth and I kept on writing.

Since then, it's crept back over and over again, but I keep beating it back with the biggest stick I can find. I show it all the pages I've written, the encouraging notes from writers' meeting, the way the plot has developed and taken on a mind of its own. When self-doubt whispers that I'm not (flourish of trumpets, please) a REAL WRITER, I remind it to look my writing credits, my query letters for short pieces, and my blog and the people who follow me, because all those things prove that I am what I say I am. I show it my timeline for getting the novel completed and published, and I remind it that I'm using the Clark Kent job as a means to an end to get where I need to be.

I tell it, in no uncertain terms, to f&$k off.

And sometimes - MOST times, at least lately, while I'm riding the high of creating this crazy novel - it does.

What do you do to beat your own self-doubt? How do you remind yourself that you are exactly where you're supposed to be?

Pacing Yourself

I talked last week about my timeline for my work-in-progress novel, from finishing the first draft to editing to distributing the pages to my First Readers... and all the other steps on the way to publication. The most important step to me (right now at least) is finishing the first draft. Without a completed first draft, I can't make any more forward motion on the project. I know you can go back and edit things which are already written, but to me it seems pointless to do steps out of order, especially if you never get a finished product to send to a publisher or agent. After all, we're trying to get a book published and out to the general populace, right? The public won't read your pages if they don't have them in their entirety, so... why should you go back to revise and polish something that's not complete?

I'm shooting to be done with the first draft by the beginning of May. For the last month I've been pacing myself to make sure I'm going to hit the 100,000 word mark by that date. I was at 55,000 words at the beginning of this month. I counted the weeks between then and May and realized if I can crank out a solid 5,000 words per week I'll be golden by the time my deadline gets here. I've created a calendar for myself in Publisher and every Monday I report in on my progress. I've watched the word count steadily rise over the last four weeks and it's truly exhilarating.

Last week I mentioned this pace to someone, and was greeted with a scoff. "5,000 words a week?" she asked, laughing and shaking her head. "When I did NaNo, I was doing close to that a day."


All right. So, I'm slow. Slower than those who work at the breakneck pace of NaNoWriMo, at least. But that's all right with me. I'm working at my own pace, budgeting my time between the 40+ hour-a-week Clark Kent job, creating my writer's platform, and birthing this book. Not to mention all the other things that take up our time as functioning members of society.

I've set a pace that will get me to my goal, and I'm sticking to it. If I get more than 5,000 words a week, GREAT. But all I'm wanting is the bare minimum goal from myself right now. So far I've made the goal every week, sometimes with a surplus of 2,000 + words, sometimes with only 80 or so. And all the while, my novel is marching towards its completion, delighting me, thrilling me, amazing me. I'm sucking in the experience and loving every single second of it. I'm savoring the time my book and I have together, because we've worked hard to get here. And I'm not questioning my goals, even though they may seem small to other people. After all, the race is yet to be won.

What are the pacing goals you set for yourself? Do you have to work by a schedule to get your first draft finished, or do you just work on it until it's complete?

Timelines

I think one of the most important things that's kept me motivated in writing my first novel is setting a timeline for the things I want to accomplish in this endeavor.

When I made the concrete decision to sit down and give this whole book-writing thing a serious try, I was dubious. I've mentioned before how I have trouble completing long-term projects (a hallmark of attention deficit disorder, I still need to contact someone about the royalties for all those posters I should be on). When I knew I was serious about giving this a try, I sat down and planned out a loose timeline for what I wanted to accomplish.

I decided to give myself nine months to complete the first draft. My writing hero, Stephen King, says in his book On Writing that he finishes a draft of 100,000 words in three months - that's cranking out about 2000 words a day, every day, with no breaks. Of course, Mr. King only has one job - making things up and writing 'em down. He doesn't have to deal with another full-time job like I do. Also, he has this whole book-writing thing down to a science. Since this is my first book, I decided to give myself more time than he recommended, mainly so I wouldn't kill myself with my own project.

After setting a date for first draft completion (the first of May), I looked at what else I wanted to do with the book. I want to give it four to six weeks to rest in the proverbial bottom drawer after it's complete, so I can go back to it and edit all its pages with a fresh eye. So that puts me in early to mid June before I can even look at it to begin the second draft (but it's all right, I have a few short stories rolling around in my head to keep me out of that bottom drawer for a few weeks). I'll give myself about a month to go back through and clean it up, add in the things I want to add (there are several bits of foreshadowing which need to be put in, to sort of spice up the story), change what needs to be changed.

So around July 15th, I'll get a few spiral-bound copies of my manuscript printed, and I'll be handing them out to a few dedicated First Readers. I've picked out a handful already, each of them with a different skill set for looking at the book. One of them, of course, is my writing compatriot and fellow Reedy River Rat Gail Gray, who has offered invaluable advice and direction during the process of creating the first draft. The other readers I have lined up are from varying backgrounds, education levels and mindsets. Each of them has been chosen to read for one reason or another - one person I want to focus on theme, one on setting, one on that terrible issue of romance I talked about yesterday... and they're all excited as hell to read my book.

I want to give them a month to read, then start gently prodding for returns (hopefully with lots of notes in the margins). So, mid-August will be the beginning of the third draft and subsequent revisions. I'll give myself another two to four weeks to get those done, and then start drafting query letters for agents and publishers. By September 15th or so (a couple of weeks before my birthday), I want to have a finished package ready to send out where it needs to go.

And then a month later, the South Carolina Writers' Conference will meet in Myrtle Beach, SC. There will be agents and publishing houses represented there, so I'm going down there to shake hands, network, and hopefully meet someone who can help me get my foot in the door to get my baby - now grown into a big, strapping, stand-on-its-own novel - looked at by a publisher. Gail and I are already planning our trip, and I'm excited about it!

When I saw all this laid out on a timeline back in August, the structure of the plan made me feel as if I had a real chance of finishing this project. It's something I return to on an almost daily basis to help remind myself of what I'm working towards. I need to get this done in a timely manner, so I can ultimately take it where it needs to go in October.

And so far, it's working.

Prose Detox

I think I mentioned last week that I was under the weather, either due to a severe allergy or an awful cold. I think it was a cold, because I got a lot of people sick, evidently, including my writing compatriot Gail Gray. I decided this week, after kicking most of that crap out of my system, I'd try to give my body a few days to cleanse itself. I'm doing a "poor-man's" detox, and I'm cutting out all caffeine, processed sugar, meat, etc. Drinking lots of water, eating fruits and vegetables, trying my hand at some vegetarian cuisine - I even have some tofu marinating in the fridge for dinner tonight.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep, I said to myself, "Self," (I call myself Self) "You should put this in your blog. I'm sure you can relate it to writing somehow."

"I don't think so," I argued (I'm a contrary cuss, aren't I?). "It's just food, man, it doesn't have anything to do with writing."

I then told myself that everything relates to writing, in one form or another, at least for me. I decided to sleep on it and see if I could think of a way I could relate it, and if so, I'd blog about it today.

In the shower (where so many good ideas come, remember?) I realized that my writing can do with a little cleansing itself. Once I've finished the book and let it rest for a few weeks, I want to put it through the literary equivalent of a detox. Right now I'm just focusing on getting the impurities out of my system, mostly by drinking lots of water and fruit juice, while eating minimally. The things I do eat are super healthy - veggies, fruits, smoothies, etc. I want to do this with my manuscript. I will scrub it vigorously with grammar and syntax. I will clean away all the adverbs and cliches I can find. I'll make it as pure as I can - as sparkling as the MS can be.

It'll be hard, just like this week (or possibly two weeks, I haven't decided) is going to be. But it will be rewarding. Once I've finished my little detox project on myself, I'm sure I'll feel better. Things will have more elaborate tastes. Sleep will come easier. The sickness from last week will be entirely out of my system.

And the same will be true for my manuscript in early July; that's my goal, anyway. It's already good. Of course, so am I - but I can use improvement. Can't everything? So after the editing, after the "prose detox", it'll be cleaner, smoother, punchier. It will say exactly what I want it to say. And, most important of all, it'll be ready to run the gauntlet of querying and submitting to agents and publishers.

A difficult - but fun and rewarding - journey. On both counts. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.

Riding the Rejection Train

Friday.

It's raining here in South Carolina, and it's cold. Wet, raw and gray. Which pretty much matches my feelings when I get a rejection letter in my inbox.

Rejections are never easy. Every story I send out goes with hope, well wishes, and fantastic daydreams. The act of pushing it out the door is a leap of faith. "It's good," I'll say to myself, "really good. I could get paid for this!" I insist, tightening my tentative grasp on new-found confidence. I scour the internet looking for markets to submit to, and use sites like duotrope.com to find a publication that may be a good fit for my piece. Once I find a hopeful-looking market, I go back over my fiction and make sure it's as clean as it can be, and meets the submission guidelines (some markets are very particular about spacing, font, line indents, etc). I compose a carefully worded cover letter, read over it to make sure it says what I really mean (and for Christ's sake, addressed to the right place), and then I sit there for a moment, index finger hovering over the mouse button.

Click.

Sometimes I hear back in a matter of hours - Necrotic Tissue rejected me in less than a day. More often it's a waiting game: most small markets will get back to you in 3-6 weeks. Larger publications, like Weird Tales and the time immemorial Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction have thousands of submissions a month, so it may take much longer to hear back from them. Patience is important; I've mastered the art of forgetting about pieces I've sent. It does no good to obsess about them. Switch that part of your brain off as well as you can, fellow writers.

And then, more often than not, the answer is no. No, it's just not a good fit. No, we appreciate the submission, but it doesn't have what we're looking for. We enjoyed reading this, but we're going to pass. And so on. The trick is to look for the encouraging words, buried in the rejection email like tiny nuggets of gold: It has some great moments. This is well written, and you had me hooked. You have a wonderful grasp of imagery. And then there's the coveted phrase, please consider submitting to our market again. YES!! I immediately turn around and send them something else when I hear that - as I did this morning, when my story "Yellow Bus Tuesday" was rejected by Pedestal Magazine. Five minutes after receiving their pleasantly-worded rejection, I had my story "Knights of the Road" headed their way.

Riding the rejection train isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I find if I keep in mind how many rejections it takes to get an acceptance, I can handle it with a positive attitude. In 2009, I submitted 19 times and was accepted once. Once. Because of those kind of statistics, I remind myself every time I get a "no" in my inbox that it's a numbers game. The story is good, so someone will take it sooner or later, right? I always hope it's sooner, but that's not always the case. There's a long journey ahead of me, and I'll be traveling a lot of it via one long, black train... more often than not through cold, gray weather like what's visiting South Carolina today.