The Murder Mystery Retreat

Son: 'Dad, why do you write books if nobody reads them?' Me: 'People read them, son.' Son: 'Mom said she tried but fell asleep.' Me: 'It's... literature. It's challenging.' Son: 'Grandma said she uses yours to level the table.' Me: 'She's old.' Son: 'The dog buries them.' Me: '...' Son: 'Is that why you cry in the shower?' Me: 'Finish your homework.' Son: 'At least my homework gets graded.'

Writing software notification: 'You've typed "she sighed" 847 times.' Ignored it. New notification: 'She has now sighed more than medically possible. She's hyperventilating. Call an ambulance.' Ignored it. Final notification: 'She's dead. You killed her with sighs. Her last words were "finally." Happy now?' I switched to "she exhaled." Notification: 'We're watching you.'

Found a sticky note in my manuscript. Not my handwriting. 'Chapter 23: I confess my love to Sarah. Chapter 24: Sarah dies. Chapter 25: I grieve. Chapter 26: I meet New Sarah. Chapter 27: I confess my love to New Sarah.' 'I'm not doing this anymore. Find another protagonist. I'm moving to the villain's subplot - at least he has consistent motivation.' Signed: Your Main Character. P.S. 'The sidekick agrees. We're unionizing.'

My unreliable narrator is so unreliable, he changed his own backstory between chapters 3 and 7. I didn't notice until it was in print. Readers: "Is this intentional?" Me: "Absolutely. Literary technique." Narrator, in chapter 12: "It wasn't intentional. He's lying to you." I didn't write that either. We're in negotiations now.

Beta reader: "Love the plot twist on page 156." I stopped at page 120. Checked page 156. There's a plot twist. Brilliant one. I didn't write it. Asked my wife. She didn't touch my laptop. Asked my cat. The cat has no opinion. Page 157: "You're welcome. — Management"

6 AM. Coffee. 7 AM. Writing. One paragraph. 8 AM. Coffee. Stare at paragraph. 9 AM. Research fonts. 10 AM. Coffee. Different mug might help. 11 AM. Perfect mug found. 12 PM. Lunch. Deserved. 1 PM. Nap. Creative recovery. 5 PM. One sentence added. 6 PM. Deleted paragraph. Productive day.