The writing retreat Briggs, and Nick and I planned for this weekend is taking place at our house, as we were unable to find on such short notice a lodge up north, as we'd planned (we're still looking for a place for a few weekends from now), and our pockets turned out rabbit-ear empty anyhow.

I finally overcame a sizable built-up knot in the organization of Only Way Free. My fragments and notes are so entangled that I had to essentially make a chart with each of the "threads" or "story arcs" progressing side-by-side. Then I was able to pick my way through the grid and rough out an outline for the entire novel. The next step is to sort the existing pieces into this order. After that, it's time for another writing push, filling the empty spaces and connecting the existing quilt patches.

I took a nap in the afternoon, behind on my sleep since getting up early Friday morning to type of some journal entries, and woke to a mint julep Nick had prepared, chilling for me in the freezer.

It sounds like Zero played another smoker tonight at Wetlands in New York.