Talking to my imaginary friends

Pardon me, Crickets, while I see to a few points of order with a few representatives of my cast of thousands.

Arthur and Tristan, thank you for coming to the point and helping get me back on track. Chapter 12 can now happen. Furthermore, Arthur, my darling boy, this little introduction to your unique personage and relationships has planted the seed for just what I didn't need - another God damned book. So, no thanks. But thanks. Er... yeah. That. And as a side note: Lance, since when are you such a douche bag? Really, now. You're surprising me. Maybe you and Tristan just didn't hit it off well? Or maybe it was like Arthur said, and you're just protective and don't understand this political stuff. I don't know, but you'd better shape up, buddy. I'd hate to dislike you. You're supposed to be a flawed hero. Heroes aren't normally jerks (Tobyn notwithstanding).

And here endeth the letter to the people in my head.

Yes, Crickets, work on Knight of Sorrows continues apace. Now it's going to be one awkward conversation in Tintagel (or Aravon), then onward to the legend. Appropriately enough, I think the legend will be properly rejoined in Chapter 13, a suitably ill-starred number to associate with the moment when an ill-starred young man encounters his fate.

Fasten your seatbelts, Crickets. It's all high-speed from here.