So I’m sitting here in my pajamas working on the sequel to TAKE ME IF YOU CAN and having a moment of confusion. We authors have a lot of those, and I suspect that quite a few of us work in our pajamas, too. 
Here’s my dilemma: do I go back to Venice, where my characters are being chased by a scantily clad fat man who’s screaming at them in Italian? Or should I stay in Miami today with the character who’s being grilled by the cops about a dead body?
What do you think? Let’s take a vote.
Of course, there’s always the British rock star--we could pay him a visit. But he’s a minor character, so I don’t really want to write from his point of view, even though he’s quite entertaining.
What I really want is to go to IHOP and eat about 12 blueberry pancakes, three eggs sunny side up and a whole chafing dish of bacon. But then the elastic on my pajamas would stretch out indefinitely, not just my moment of confusion. 
Can I just say that it’s not fair that hubby has the day off while I’m on deadline?
Okay, back to work. I’m picturing my villain holding a gun to my head, saying "Write, Karen, write! Give us some good scenes, you lazy wench." Dang. What’s the world coming to when you can’t even get respect from your characters?
Signing off now, Karen