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I was quite fearful that this damned flu was going to derail my work-in-progress novel. Knocked out of commission for nearly two weeks as I hacked and wheezed and barely maintained any coherent thought my book languished without any active editing or composing.

Normally if something derails my writing and editing after the interruption, I return to work by re-reading the outline. This returns me to the mindset of the novel, puts the characters back into my head, primes the pump for more creativity. Writing this beast without an outline meant I couldn’t do that this time.

Instead of an outline I re-read the chapter that was in progress and either by luck or due to a story that was still going strong in my subconscious I fell right back into the world or Wallace Point and it’s terrifying secret. (Well, at least I hope it’s terrifying. That’s for the readers to determine.)

I know that I have fully gotten back into the flow of the novel because for the last couple of nights as I lay in bed waiting for blissful sleep to arrive my brain has exploded with solutions to vexing plot problems.

The evening have also seen the return of my editing as I have now edited the first five chapters of the work and been pleasantly surprised that this rudderless approach hasn’t yielded a meandering aimless story.