It's late. Or early in other parts of the world.

I can not fall asleep.

Last night was the same, though at least last night I got a large amount of writing done. Not on chapter four, not on any particular chapter that I know of yet. Perhaps what was written last night will be used near the end. Well, the outcome of the two main characters could very well be determined by the actions and words within these ten pages.

Ah, yes, the ending. And here I thought I had figured out the ending. Alas, that is definitely not the case. So I will continue with the "novel" concept of writing it from beginning to end and worry about the end only at that time. Somehow, though, these ten pages of written word will find their way into the ending, there is no doubt in my mind.

In the mean time, writing these ten pages has served another purpose - a temporary relief for the unraveling and restless mind, a temporary way to ease the tension I'm currently feeling. Temporary is definitely the operative word. Only at some point in the near future, weeks away I suppose, will those ten pages serve to give some sort of long-term solution or definition. (I fear saying "permanent" - not one of us can predict the future entirely, even with an abundance of clues.)

I did see a wonderful movie this evening: "There Will Be Blood" and there was blood. Absolutely wonderful movie. Think Hemmingway with a slight twist of Poe.