My slow going, in the fourth book of the Seneca Series trilogy, I attribute to the fact I have painted myself into a plot corner. This was done quite deliberately, in order to create a realistic scenario. In fact, I've done this more than once. Getting out of those corners, in a realistic and satisfying manner, requires a bit more brainpower than I have become accustomed to using, in my dotage. Having painted myself into the current corner, I'm even having trouble deciding what color the paint should be. I'm embarrassed to admit to being only at 68K words, just past my intended mid-point. Anyway, I offer no phony excuses, just the fact that I am barely intelligent enough to write these stories. See the trouble? I'm not even smart enough to think up a plausible phony excuse.