Writing underwater

Managed to get past a sticky part in the Europa story last night. I forsee one more big trouble spot up ahead, and then we'll be home free. It's interesting how the current story is running parallel to the original draft, but maybe 20 feet over to the left. I mean, I can see the original plot from where I am currently, and the terrain and landmarks are more or less the same, but it's still different enough to require me to work as hard as if I were writing an entirely new story.

"He was going to accept. It was everything Rüdiger ever wanted, really. The Kargel was to be his--our--last Europan tour." Theda looked up at Sabine, her face haggard. "I'm finished here. There's nothing left. I'm ready to go home."

Sabine nodded. "There are other cold vents, Falko. I've already lost one crewmember. I've no intention of losing any more."

"A methane plume like you're talking about would be cataclysmic," I said bitterly.

"If you're thinking mutiny, Falko, better make damn sure you kill me your first try, because you're not getting a second."

There's exactly one sentence in that mix that survives from the original draft. The bit about "methane plume," and even that's just a fragment from a much larger argument.

At this point, I have no idea how much longer this story's going to run. I think I'm running up to the endgame, but then again, this rewrite's been throwing all sorts of curveballs at me, so who knows?

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