How are things? Tangible.

First of all, remind me to never use the Squarespace blogging app again. I've had far more trouble with this thing than it's worth. I'll spend upwards of thirty minutes on an entry, baring my heart, soul, and taste in film soundtracks, all for an error message. So if the blog has seemed a bit bare in recent weeks, now you know.

"You could just fire up the laptop." Yeah, but that's in the other room, where I am currently writing this.

The new rough draft is almost complete, and it's a big one. If this had been a NaNo book, it wouldn't have nearly the scope it has now. It's a crime story, inspired by the road movies of the sixties and seventies like Two-Lane Blacktop and Badlands, as well as the one-night narrative style of Escape From New York and After Hours. Its hero is a young woman who has to save her criminal father from his own wicked machinations. It's funny as hell and features a 1977 Pontiac LeMans, my first car. That's all I can tell you right now, except that I'm dying to get it out there.

As for other works, I'm still editing the first novel, the space western. The fact that it's taken me three years to finish should probably tell me something, but I refuse to give up on it. It deserves to see the light of day, and if that means diverting my energies from more current work, no bigs.

My goal, above all, is to write these weird-ass books for a living. Right now, that means holding down two jobs, one of which I do for free because it's the one I love. Real life gets in the way too often, but there's no way around that. My time management skills have always been weak, so I'm doing my best to take care of myself physically, mentally, and financially. It's rough, but doable. Having those Heater stories out there gives me a boost that you wouldn't believe. If writing is a jones, being published is a full-blown addiction, real feeder bar business.

It's a strange world, and I want to see a lot more of it than I have. If anything will get a regular joe out of a rut, it's creation. Create even stranger worlds than the one around you, and you're really getting somewhere.

Until we meet again, do try to keep your vinyl addiction in check. If you still haven't unwrapped that Barry Manilow album, your dabbling with irony has run its course. Later.