Chapter 5: In Which The Author Freaks Out

Dear Readers, beginnings of books are the hardest for me to write. It's showing up solo for a party full of people you don't know and trying to decide how best to present yourself. Wait for the hostess to introduce you to a few like-minded folks? Burst through the door and shout, "How 'bout 'dem Bearcats?" Slink around the perimeter with your coat still on, looking for the family dog? Find the smokers shivering on the patio only to recall you quit ten years ago?

So. Many. Options.

By Chapter 5, I know I've chosen the wrong one. I'm closing in on the end of the first arc and it's not lining up with where I know the middle and end are heading. The stakes aren't high enough. Or they're too high too soon. The opening "everyday" situation doesn't succinctly convey the normalcy of an abnormal world. Too many people are introduced too soon. It's too bland. It's too confusing. It's too...

GAH!

Now, imagine you're in sitting in your car, just outside the party venue, getting ready to head inside. Nude lipstick or red? Handbag or just keys? Coat or no coat?

Breath mints. Definitely breath mints.