Present: I realized that one of these is long overdue. Loads of things have happened since last I posted on this here blog, some of which are world-shatteringly strange and personal, others are something I should take the time to humblebrag about.
I’ve nearly finished another novel. Fimbulwinter, the focus of the most recent drift of blogs, is nearly a completed zero draft. The bones are solid. It needs work, but what doesn’t? I continue to hone my craft, remember the old me, and vomit words onto the page in a slurry of mead and myth. In a week or two, I will be done with writing my third novel. I will put it to rest and dream of better words, stories, and characters. As the season turns here in the Northwest, I feel my writing powers awakening with the arrival of storms and shitty weather. My summer torpor falls away as the mist begins to rise.
Past: This Red Business continues to percolate and lately I have heard Pumpkin and Whissen Foss stir, ready to scurry all over the page again. I continue to issue forth queries into the waiting maws of agents with the stubborn hope that This Red Business will enter meatspace.
Future: Ahead of me, yawns the yawning void of empty space. I can feel a space opera calling. Notes I crafted for 40k, long dormant planets and peoples, awaken from cryo-sleep. I can even hear the bzzzzt, the thrum, and see the glow of a lightsaber or two. We’ll see where this one goes, but for now I have created a playlist for it. Listen below if the mood strikes as I trod back into the word mines.
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