Ever since yesterday morning, I've not written about Sheriff Art Whiddick, nor about Indigo's Chief of Police Ryan Ballinson and his niece Bebe. Not a word about the Indian token/medallion (the MacGuffin) has passed my fingertips.
For two days, I've been telling the story of Sophie (whose parents think her name is Doris) and her encounter with evil fairies. I thought the diversion might provide me with a thousand words or so, and also banish the foreign tale from my brain so I could get on with telling the story of Indigo and the blizzard. Instead it turned into a flood, adding more than 5000 words to my novel in two days, 3000 just today.
Although the end is in sight, the tale-within-a-tale might finally occupy most of two chapters. Just to tell a fairy tale to a fictional group of children and their parents in a fictional library.
In the middle of the night last night, I woke out of a sound sleep knowing how the fairy tale will matter to the citizens of Indigo. I saw how telling it would help the ancient hunter who wears the guise of a woman. And I knew how her story-telling hubris would eventually bring about her defeat at the hands of the sheriff.
Some of this will involve reworking the initial chapters. But that's a task for December!
In the meantime, the story rolls on...
Total: 32,385 words.