One last weekend at the cottage. Our retreat is pretty rustic, but occasionally, I find that is a good thing. There are times when I need to get away from all the distractions technology brings about. We have no television at our cottage, no Internet and therefore, no social networking (my biggest time waster). There is no telephone either, except for our cell phones, with a limited number of people on the other end who have access .
The quiet at the lake allowed me to sort out some of the complications in my novel-in-progress. How much information would the man who ran the village art gallery have about the two women in the house across the alley? One was an artist; he'd sold a painting for her once. But neither of their names matched the one on the watercolour.
How was I going to make this work? What a muddle I had created! I had written myself into a corner in more scenes that just this one.
Over the weekend, I sat down with my lined, yellow notepad and listed what the problems were, which changes had to be made to the story in order to bring about the outcome I need. It would be back to the noisy world soon enough.