This winter has sapped my energy level, but I’m nearing the end.  Finally.

It’s been getting slower and slower, my word count has dropped steadily.  I finally figured out why.

I’m going to the badlands.  My wife said the book wasn’t that dark, but as it nears the end, it goes so past dark that you can’t even see dark in the rear view mirror.

When everyone has died, when all hope is lost, how can you soldier on?  It’s a good question for my protagonist, Sam.  What will motivate him to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  What difference can he possibly make?

We’re going to find out.