I got up early and headed for the cabin. It was foggy, and Pogonip covered the trees. I had to call Lisa* to guide my gyro copper toward the runway. She was able to talk to it and take the controls from her bedroom.
I booted everything up, and opened The Cock of the South. I had a notepad from my conversation with Cobby, the dwarf. He’s the story’s main character.
Doubt** made little karuk noises whenever I needed more emotion or scenic detail. I referred to my notes to get the ones Cobby described. When I got to one spot, Doubt flew over to my desk and paced back and forth. I don’t think he was ever happy with the passage.
The small trick with Doubt is, that’s all he is. He can help me make passages better, or make me doubt myself in a vicious cycle where nothing is ever good enough. Eventually, I have to decide. That’s the big trick, I’m the one in charge.
I got slightly more than half way through before I had to stop. I’ll take a little break, and hit it again in the afternoon. Then I’ll probably spend my evening reading Harry Dresden. I don’t think Sherlock comes on until tomorrow. Then I’ll have to decide between Sherlock, Sleepy Hollow, and Klondike. I can record one, watch one, and probably miss one. Cable stuff usually runs more than once though. I might be able to set a midnight recording.
I went upstairs to check on Lisa. She was standing in the center of the room with three holographic monitors open, one for radar, one for topography, and one for Boise. She wore her tight denim pedal pushers with a blouse that was covered in cherries. Her high heels were a regular thing, and today was no exception.
She glared at her monitors and said, “Going home is going to be dicey. I can help you take off, and point you in the right direction. It’s sunny up high. Dropping into Boise will be the hardest part. You’ll be out of range for me, and there’s another inversion.” She turned toward me and said, “You might be better off staying here and trying it tomorrow night.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said. “I’m going to stretch out on the couch for a bit. Then have a snack and edit some more.” I tugged on my beard, “Is the forecast any better tomorrow?”
“A bit. If Boise gets a little wind, you ought to be okay.”
“I’m off Monday. Let’s stick with my plan and see what it looks like this evening.”
“Okay. You really ought to write yourself a bed for the cabin. Then you can spend long weekends here. I can bring up the Will ‘O the Wisp in the morning so you can write about it.”
“You’re a good assistant, Lisa. I’ll take it all under advisement.”
*Lisa is from one of my early novels. She’s my assistant now, and a robot.
**Doubt is a raven. At least he looks like a raven.