Why won't my ficticious character work with me?
I've given him everything he needs. A heatstick that can burn the face off anyone it touches, the path that can lead him to safety, a hot woman to rescue from alien insects. He's got the weapon, the motive, the reasoning. So what is he doing?
Sitting in his tiny room, shaking and crying like a little girl, as everyone around him is being attacked by alien insects.
GET TO IT, GEORGE! I'M TIRED OF WAITING AROUND!
In other news, Eugie from Tangent has sent me my next assignment. It's an anthology of stories by Lisa Silverthorne entitled The Sound of Angels. You can find more out about it here. Seems interesting enough and I can't wait to read it. Hopefully some free time will pop up this weekend!