Not Quite Stunt

Well, it’s Thursday. I got a lot done yesterday, including some semi-reasonable wordcount, hallelujah. Swimming against the weight of the world–current events, administrivia, this that and the other, all the things it uses to try to keep one from creative endeavor–is a risky and exhausting business. Maybe it’s not really the world but human systems of exploitation, but the difference is scant on a practical level.

There’ll be sometime special for subscribers today, and it’s pleasant to anticipate that. There’s also a sale going on now, another sale pending, and a release later this month. I feel like I’m chasing my own tail to a ridiculous degree, even for 2022.

I also have to get to the bloody post office. I keep putting it off because the pandemic is still going strong, but there are things to send and I can’t wait any longer.

Ugh. Leaving the house, my least favorite thing. At least I have plenty of masks and can largely arrange things so I’m in and out during the off hours. Someone vandalized the PO boxes during lockdown, so one can’t go in after-hours anymore. (This is why we can’t have nice things, ARGH.)

I’m still juggling Hell’s Acre (got the knife fight finished yesterday, hooray) and Sons of Ymre #2 (it’s about time to get our monster hunters caught by the larger monster-hunting organization), not to mention the Sooper-Sekrit Projekt. The last alternately delights and terrifies me, but trick writing is like that. It’s not quite stunt writing, but it’s close. The best thing is stuffing in all sorts of references and knowing that some of them will only be understood by me. Easter eggs for readers are great, and for writers? Well, they’re one reason to continue with this benighted career.

Among others.

The dogs are now lobbying for toast-crusts, and that means it’s almost time for walkies, not to mention the morning run. After I sweat through a few kilometres I’ll feel better, and may even be able to face the day without wishing I could reach for my baseball bat.


Hang in there, beloveds. We’re almost to Friday, after all…