I'm trying to write in my usual spot, with Gus, on the Panera patio. However, today it's loud with voices and trucks and sirens. It seems everything is conspiring against the muse today. So instead, I'm going to my sister's house. I swim a while, then write in the gazebo, then swim a while, then write in the gazebo, and so forth. It will be quiet, probably too quiet. I guess I can get the three dogs (including Gus) to chatter a bit so the quiet isn't deafening. At least I can try.
Chapter 2 of Who Dies Next? awaits.