So, fun, yes, but things started happening quickly. The story almost got away from me at times; I couldn't write fast enough. One main character became two, then a minor cast appeared, and disappeared. There were arguments. But, as been said, there's no meanness in this book, so no one shouted or threw a shoe across the room. Well maybe that's not true. A lot of major events happen in cyberspace. Disagreements tend to be quiet and well tempered in type. I myself hated one of the characters, a bland little guy, who had no personality, no color of any kind, zero. He was sweet, too sweet, but he reminded me of cream of wheat. And this was an artist?! Come on. 
    
    I know artists, well, one or two, not whole towns full of them, but as I recall, color is everything. Not just color, as in the white/off white controversy that I had with one ill-fated boyfriend about wall paint, but color, as in totally neurotic.  All the rooms in our apartment looked exactly the same, except that one had an easel and a small collection of carefully selected tubes of paint. They all had white walls and a plant in them. If I he took my picture when I was wearing a white dress, I had to stand in front of the plant. Otherwise, I couldn't be seen. Maybe that was the point. He wanted me to be invisible. I had dared to step into a pristine scene.

     It didn't take that long to see that I had to step out of it. We hadn't been together for more than a few weeks. At least, I didn't have much to pack. I still had my apartment; I could still go home. I could still go home to my 100% organic, somewhat chaotic room, with its mouse droppings, and its peeling ceiling. It wouldn't be forever. But for now, it was home.