I finally broke proper ground on New Novel, after a few false starts. This one’s fighting me, and I imagine it will continue to kick and bite through all projected 80000 words. (Projected 80000 – I think GUN MACHINE ended up somewhere over 85000.)
This means that this goddamn thing is back for a few months.
In which I exercise some thirteen-year-old memories of beautiful Trieste and do a bad George Orwell metaphor that will not survive the second draft. But when the book’s fighting, the important thing is to keep moving.
The book has a name, but I’m not allowed to say anything about it yet. So, for a few months, it will simply be Next Novel.
More news to come soon. But for now, I simply note that Next Novel is properly begun.