Out of time

There is a major life event approaching, and I’m not just talking about the climax to Breathing Fire. I don’t want to say too much about it right now, but I was desperately hoping to be able to get the novel done before the onset of Doom. Or at least in the post-Doom aftermath. Seems like that’s not going to happen now.

Another paying job has arrived, which is great because a) money, b) I generally enjoy my editorial work, and c) it’s always nice to be wanted. Never take me seriously when I grumble about having too much on my plate. I do enjoy it, and I’m proud of having built up a little sideline, even to the point of being a go-to guy for a major(ish) publishing company, that keeps my head about financial waters and keeps me out of mischief.

But I am sick of not having finished my novel yet. I started it in April 2021 (if not before; this blog is woefully short on actual facts), and that was based on a dream I had in the summer of 2020 (I think). This has been the longest I’ve ever spent on a draft and that’s mostly because I’ve had to spend so much time on Other Things. Some of these are worthwhile (publishing New Gods, for example). Others… well, others have been necessary.

I am frustrated. Especially since this latest interruption comes as I feel like I was just – finally! – getting to grips with what I was attempting to do. I am climaxing, and enjoying the blocking out of action, the collapsing of phase space, and the culmination of what I’ve spent the last year building up to.

There was even a moment of fire-breathing in a novel called Breathing Fire. Only took 60k words to get there.

But there’s no point in complaining. Ain’t nobody going to care. Ain’t nobody going come take my burdens off me. I could have turned down the work; really it’s nobody’s fault but mine.

So all I can do is get on with the work. And, in the back of my mind, I’ve always got the fact that I have a trilogy (almost) written but nothing to do with it. No publisher, no agent, no way of getting it out to the great and the good. Ambition aplenty; at present no hope.

So I guess it really doesn’t matter whether I complete Breathing Fire tomorrow or a decade hence. ‘S gonna be done because I have a story to tell. How to get it to you? That’s another problem entirely.

En avant!

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