Weak Signal

The old stats panel on this thing tells me it’s been a month since I last posted. If that isn’t bad enough, it’s been a lot longer than that since I actually sat down and put pen to paper (or fingers to keys). I should probably feel bad (I feel a bit bad) but my reasons for the lack of effort are pretty solid.

Although I’d like to write full time, I don’t make enough from it to close my other business. As the weather has picked up and this tiny little island is no longer covered with enough frost to make Jotunheim shiver, I’ve had a lot of work coming my way. That’s obviously a good thing, but it does mean I have less time to sit at my desk and write.

I also nipped over to the continent with one of my best buds for a couple of days. It’s been a while since I’ve been outside this triangular catastrophe off the coast of Gaul. Munich was the destination and the time had was great fun (and quite boozy).

Probably the biggest reason for my slipped commitment to wordage is the sudden and totally unexpected entrance of Romance into my life. Yes, after over a year of reveling in the ability to stroll around in my underpants, un-bathed and hairy-faced, I’ve decided to rejoin the realms of not being a grumpy, lonely old man (not that I was lonely, but you get what I mean). Anyway, these things take a lot of time and effort to cultivate and enjoy, so my mind has been on things other than writing.

And of course that’s a complete lie. The biggest part of being creatively curious is the fact that once the brain has started down that road, there’s always a little nest of ethereal spiders chewing away at the grey matter. All the time I’ve not been writing (well, not all), I’ve still been thinking about writing, berating myself for not writing and generally wishing I was writing (again, not all the time).

At the beginning of the year, I set myself a goal of 4 novella-length works in 2016. That’s one every three months. Sure, I’ve put out Scavenger Hunt and Predayne’s Spire but Spire is just under 10k words, so it doesn’t count. That means I have 29 days to plot, write, edit and create a cover for my next thing.

I guess I have a busy month lined up, especially as the continued adventures of Mona Kit are nowhere to be found inside the concrete box I call a skull