Perhaps it's the effects of the crazy cat lady commentary, but something has happened to my main character. Gone is the woman who pines from afar. In her place is a woman who will drag a man to her bed without much thought. Even when she's wearing paint-stained yoga pants.

This could pose a problem. Since she's with the WRONG GUY right now.

Yeah, I left them alone for awhile. Maybe they can talk it out...or something. Riiiight.

I blame that Nelly Furtado song. Miss Furtado has totally destroyed the moral fibre of my main character. Or she's always been frisky and just forgot to tell me when I was working on the outline.

Geesh. Maybe I need to listen to Christian Rock. Or Clay Aiken.

Don't laugh, I have his first album. I love a man who loves his Mamma. And Jesus. And the YMCA. I wonder how he feels about promiscuous main characters?

I think I may have lost a reader already. Sigh.

The good news is, I'm writing. And this is supposed to be the easy part, right?