Drip, drip, drip

Not only is it doing that outside, but it's doing it in my brain too.

All of my characters are talking to me but not all at once, in the usual cacophony.  It's like a symphony composed of single instruments all playing serially, not together.  First Adelaide says "smaller churches" and then as I ponder that Kate will say "Ada's lessons," then Billy sparks the conversation with "leather chaps."  I'm left with fragments of ideas and wonder where I could fit them into the greater novels of which they are a part.

I guess it is a function of being ADD but it's a hellofaway to write three novels and one novella at the same time.