You can paint me amazed at just how out of control this week’s story has become. It’s nothing short of a complete f#$%ng train wreck. Right now. And I really doubt that rewrites are going to salvage this one.

The main problem is that I’ve come down with my fortieth cold/flu/fever thing for the month of March. I had one heading into my last story, “Knots,” but it cleared up enough to let me get cracking and put out an actual story. For this week my cold does not seem to be lifting at the appropriate time so I’m essentially writing a 3,000 word fever dream. Nothing makes sense, I have no idea what the setting is, characters will literally disappear from scenes as I can’t seem to keep my concentration straight, and, to top things off, I didn’t really have a very good idea for a story to begin with.

I mean, I really can’t get a grip on this story.  When I get feverish and sick it becomes crazy hard for me to understand when my brain is joking and when it’s throwing out interesting new ideas.  This thought actually ran through my head earlier today: “What if I changed all the characters into talking hippopotamuses?  Would that help?”  And I can’t tell if that’s the fever talking or the author of, “Mindy and Barkley,” talking.

I realize a lot of you think that I shouldn’t sit here and bash a story before it’s done (it really might get fixed by Thursday mind you, but the odds are not overwhelmingly in favor of that) but I’ve always seen the blog aspect of this project as more of a documentary type thing. I write a whole bunch of stories and you get to watch behind the scenes at what happens. And currently behind the scenes what is happening is that I hate this story and would hit it very very very hard over the head with a bat and leave it in a field somewhere if that were in any way possible.

Leave the bat; take the cannolis.