It isn’t even 8 p.m., and I’ve already done my writing for the day. Because I just felt like doing it, instead of reading or whatever.

That’s a nice feeling, and not one I’ve had much of lately.

(Mind you, the desire was born of pure sadism. Last night I started an Antony scene that I’ve been dying to write, because it’s just so mean.)

Word count: 48090
LBR tally: Blood, of the metaphysical kind.
Authorial sadism: I’ve had enough time to think through the consequences of some of the things I’ve established in this and the previous book. Much to Antony’s detriment.