I write scenes all out of order—always have and, no matter how hard I try to be linear, probably always going to. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but never like with DG3. The last third—totally done. The first two-thirds—so riddled with plot holes, I’m surprised poor Gallagher didn’t break a leg stumbling through them all.

Scrapping and rebuilding the original hole-riddled plot was tough, because any new plot had to blend seamlessly into the final third. I finally got it. After much sketching and crossing out and scribbling on napkins and brainstorming with the dog (who always just looks bored), I realized the two scenes I wanted to keep from the beginning and that were seriously blocking any changes to the bad plot really belonged toward the end of the second act. Yay!

Now, when I’d like some computer time, I’m off to play in the mud. :bang: But we’re going without the kids! :boogie:

I’ll leave you eavesdropping on Gallagher and Rossi (note: in rough draft). Poor Gallagher. :villain:

And damn if it wasn’t Rossi who found him two hours later, scooching his way down the hallway with his hospital johnny flapping and his ass hanging out in the breeze.

“For Christ’s sake, I don’t need to see that on an empty stomach,” his voice said.

“Then go get a fucking sandwich.” The pain meds were wearing off and his body was slick with sweat. “Anybody who gets in my way is dead, plain and simple.”

It was a slow and painful process. He put his hands out, then dragged his lower body forward. The sweat kept him from getting floor burn on his hip, but his hands were starting to slide a bit.

“How are you planning to get through the ICU doors?”

Gallagher gritted his teeth and hauled himself forward another two feet. “I’ll wait ‘til somebody comes out and sneak in unnoticed on my stomach.”

“One thing you are not right now, man, is unnoticeable.”

Then Rossi’s hands were under his armpits. Gallagher must have been weaker than he’d thought because the other man had no problem propping him up against the wall like a rag doll. “I don’t even want to know how you unhooked yourself from everything you were hooked to, do I?”

“Lucky for me I’d already charmed the nurse into removing that fucking catheter or I’d still be crying.”