It’s been quiet around these parts, and my housekeeping has left much to be desired. For that I apologize. I’ve received scads of emails and off-topic queries on the status of the book, and though I wish I could say I have news to share with you, I don’t. I’ve received feedback from several readers now, but nothing officially editorial. I’m in the process of cleaning up the issues emerging from the feedback I’ve received now.
This past summer probably constitutes the least productive months I’ve enjoyed in at least four years. I need routine, and between alternating summer-camps, vacations, weddings and other family events I simply haven’t had enough consecutive days to reignite any of the old obsessive engines, philosophical or narrative. I’ve read several excellent and not-so excellent books, wrote a blog post or two, enjoyed some heady correspondence with a variety of folks in cognitive science. I’ve written down at least thirteen different short story ideas. About the only things I’ve completed are “The Knife of Many Hands,” a short-story set in Carythusal on the eve of the Scholastic Wars, which Grimdark Magazine is set to publish, likely in two parts, sometime in the near future. And I’ve also completed “A Crack in the Wall” for a fantasy anthology of stories taking the antagonist’s POV, though the story is so bizarre I really have no idea whether they’ll still want it!
Aside from being horrifically, chronically disorganized, I’ve always been prone to set projects aside just short of completion, and I had an epiphany just a couple weeks back when I sat down and took stock of all the things I’ve had “finished.” At that point, I had drafts of both the stories mentioned above completed (apparently waiting for my eyes to become “fresh” again). I also had around 350 000 words worth completed for The Aspect-Emperor, an edited, indexed manuscript around 200 000 words for Through the Brain Darkly, and of course, the 50 000 words or so belonging to poor old Light, Time, and Gravity, languishing here on Three Pound Brain, awaiting the final final rewrite.
“Mutherfucker,” I groaned. “What is my malfunction?”
So the new mission is to expedite, to clear these projects from the docket in the order given above. For all of you patiently waiting for any of these, I apologize. We all suffer other peoples’ demons, but typically only when they belong to your kingroup, and the fact is, I ain’t your kin… just another obsessive asshole bent on proving the world wrong, and himself tragically right.
Bear with me folks. I’ll come through yet. The world doesn’t stand a fucking chance.