I'm almost finished with the next noir. I'm so fucking wired, I feel absolutely nauseated! Whee! I don't care what the fuck it looks like at this point, but I did get pretty excited by the writing again at last, at times--my imagination was finally caught up again in the story and the universe, and I had a big resurgence of Spike/Buffy love.
Of course, it occurs to me that if I build up any anticipation, there'll be nowhere for readers to go but down, so I'll just say that it's a bunch of words and stuff happens, and yawnnnnn, don't expect much.
But what. ev. er. All I care is that it's going to be done done done!