“What about Gracie?”
His expression grew shuttered. “That’s just the thing. They didn’t say anything to her and she didn’t seem surprised that I was basically being kidnapped right before her eyes. She told me she was sorry and that she loved me and didn’t ‘give a damn about directives’.”
“Okay. That’s weird.” Lacey leaned back.
“No,” Viv countered. “No- Adam and Kenny talked about ‘directives’ too. They made it sound like some kind of orders given by the higher-ups.”
Beau let out a long breath. “So, you think she was one of them?”
She bit her lip. “That’s what it sounds like. I’m sorry.”
He cast his eyes down sadly.
“So, how did you escape?” Carson interrupted, clearly unmoved.
Beau blinked. “Well, I…uh. Um.” He shrugged and scratched his head.“Actually, I have no idea how I escaped.” He turned towards the author writing this ridiculous scene. “Yo! Katie! A little help here?”
All characters look my way expectantly. Then four pairs of eyes struggle not to roll as I put my hands up, yet again. “Sorry! I don’t know how he escaped either. But I promise to give it some thought, okay?”
Alas, three days have passed and my characters are currently still stuck in that stupid hotel room, waiting on my enlightening explanation of how Beau managed to escape from the back of the black ops van and find his way to them. Even though he had no weapons, no allies, and must have had to rely on his wit and intelligence to escape the situation.
Unfortunately, the mastermind behind Beau’s escape isn’t feeling very witty or intelligent at the moment. Actually, the term ‘brain dead’ comes to mind when I attempt a brainstorming session. All I seem to want to do lately is pop peanut m&m’s, watch back episodes of ‘Game of Thrones’ and read books that have already been written (so much easier, right?).
But my characters are getting restless, as they rightly should. *sigh*
How do you break out of a writing funk? Of course, if you’d rather tell me how you’d break out of a black ops situation, please, feel free to share:)