Well I finally got back into writing my horrible attempt at a novel, and this session resulted in two major changes in the story:
1) My private investigator is literally going insane.
2) I've introduced a stripper informant.
I know the ideas aren't exactly new, but I'm only doing this for fun so I don't care. The insanity is fun because now if I write myself into a corner, I can just use a heaping case of the crazies to let myself out.
Also, since I haven't read good mystery books in a while, I've decided to implement some Raymond Chandler reading in the bathroom, hopefully some of his talent for metaphor will rub off on me faster than a Cheetah on coke.
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