I'm happy to report that my daughter Shayna seems to be fine and so far hasn't shown any signs of problems from that chemical exposure in the lab the other day. From everything I read on the Internet about that particular gas, it seemed unlikely to me that she could have breathed enough of it to hurt her, but you never know about these things. Being a writer, the worst-case scenario is always the first one that pops into my mind. Or maybe it's just paranoid writers who think that way. Or maybe "paranoid writers" is being redundant.
I worked on the new book again today but progress was much slower. I think I wrote so much yesterday my brain was still tired. And I haven't had a chance to read anything since yesterday morning. I need fiction to keep my thought processes lubricated. I'll never understand writers who say, "Oh, I don't read fiction". Fine for them if it works, but I'd be insane in a week. I blame it on my sister, who took me to the bookmobile when I was six years old. Before that I never knew there were so many books in the world.
"Manhunter" by Arnold Hano (1957)
45 minutes ago