A mild weekend here in New Orleans that will have devoted to it many cans of energy drink and a determination to bring this tale to a close. There is panic currently at the nightclub, at Samson's Live Music, and everyone is looking for answers. It's the momentum that I need to match, this need to understand why those questions need to be answered and answered now. They need to be answered by this weekend, and then the rest will just flow from that. Less cryptically speaking, I've reached the revelatory section of Book III on this overcast Saturday, and with a head full of taurine and nicotine, I plan to let my characters all know where they stand before it all explodes and everyone starts running towards the ending, which by the way, happens somewhere in St. Bernard Parish.
What the fuck is Ted talking about?
It looks like we're here, at that moment when the ending begins. And it starts with an observation, a shifting of energy that prompts the question: "Did you hear that?"
Can't think of a better way to come around the straightaway. It's been a grueling but rewarding road, and this third book, Book III, will bring with its completion a sense of satisfaction that I can feel twinges of already. The Trilogy will exist, will be out there to grow with the rest of the universe, and with this end will come the beginning of the next phase of my work. I'm certain I'll revisit the material, or at least build on it to create titles with subtitles that say: "A Blanket Story," and I look forward to that absolute new page turned.
Next up will either be that new Blanket Story or a completely different novel altogether, one that's already near completion and has in fact occupied me during a good portion of my end in Alabama and my new beginning in New Orleans. What can I say, this is only the beginning. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. --from "Closing Time" by Semisonic (1998).