Comics pages: 8
Prose words: 1,018
Fulfilled my obligation to the duel today, but just barely. The day got off to a rocky start when mundane life intervened in the form of carpet cleaners, who kept me out of my office for more than an hour, and tiny bugaboos of the profession kept popping me up, leaving me with a grand total of four pages written by dinnertime. The wife and I caught a bit of luck -- the neighbor invited our kids to sleep over with hers, and so my wife and I had an impromptu date: dinner out and Slumdog Millionaire (which was fantastic and you should absolutely go see it.
Great fun, but severely damaging to my writing progress. I didn't get start writing again until after 10:00, following a long conversation with Willingham in which we charted out the course of our next JSA issue. From there, I began writing, and got down four pages of that script before I ran out of steam.
But I couldn't stop. I still needed 2 more comics pages, or some prose to get me over the hill. The next page of JSA required some serious medical research that I just didn't have the energy to do, so I took off my weary comics hat, and put on the slightly-less-weary prose hat.
Another character study for the new novel. This time it was Styg Falores, called Ironfoot. A decorated battle magus in the Seelie Army, Ironfoot was badly injured during the Battle of Sylvan that was a pivotal event in Midwinter. What Ironfoot hasn't realized yet is that while he was being treated for his battle injuries, the Seelie Army learned something about him that he'd successfully kept hidden for many years. And everything he feared about that inevitable discovery is about to come true in spades. Oh, Ironfoot. You are so screwed. I feel for you, buddy. I really do. Your only happiness from now until you die will come wrapped in pain. I'm sorry, but that's just how it's got to be. You have only yourself to blame. No one forced you to do what you did.