Cutting the Chase

I know, the phrase is cutting to the chase. But that’s not what’s happening.

Poor Jake Calcutta has been in and out of my top drawer a hundred times the past 6 months. I’ve printed bits and read them, highlighting and underlining. I’ve binder-clipped and folded and organized and shuffled. I’ve enlisted pre-alpha readers.

I’ve ignored it mercilessly for weeks at a time.

A third of the way through, Jake left me. Hid out somewhere in the wilderness of Whatcomesnext and no matter how I coaxed, he wouldn’t talk to me.

Turns out he doesn’t see the point of the elaborate chase through time I’d imagined from Day 1.

Turns out he’s right.

Jake Calcutta is willing to wait with the patience of an oak for his prey to appear. Once it does, though, there is no “elaborate chase through time.” There is a pounce and a capture, his nemesis wriggling in his grasp, helpless.

Not with a series of whimpers. With a bang. A whack thump crunch bang.

I’m coming out of a deep dark hole, Jake’s hand reaching down from the ledge to pull me up.

Ruminating Art

Been yearning lately to have an unconventional cover band again.

Working on the 9 sentences defining the critical waypoints in Into the Fog.

Planning for another 333, with a bit of time off (I hope) for songwriting.

Totally stalled on the first Jake Calcutta mystery anodyne.

Moving ahead on Commonsense Zero-Cost DIY Marketing for Authors.

Talking to the local public access TV station about doing a regular show for aspiring authors.

All underpinned by some personal things that make creative thinking harder.