Greetings from the edge,
One of the peculiar side effects of working from the broom cupboard is that during winter, between my body heat and the NASA-like array of monitors and assorted electronic nonsense around me, it becomes wonderfully warm and cosy.
In a heat wave, however, those exact same factors transform it into something closer to a low-budget sauna.
So, as a slowly liquefying puddle of human goo, I’ve not been quite as productive as I’d like. Still, I persist.
I’ve been hammering away at The Echo Man, my first novella, itself shamelessly recycled from a short story that was repeatedly met with variations of:
“Yeah… but then what?”
The current plan is a minimum of 500 words a day. Assuming I don’t evaporate completely, that should leave me with a respectable first draft by September.
I’ve also been busy on the repair side over at Rob The Computer Guy. It seems the heat has brought out a lot of computer gremlins.
There was one particular case involving a dead printer where I threw absolutely everything at the bloody thing. By the end I was down to literal prayer.
Then it only bloody worked.
For no discernible reason whatsoever, the damn thing sprang back to life and started printing again. Naturally, I kept my mouth shut, muttered something professional about older systems developing strange little quirks, and gratefully accepted payment in cash.
I’m also deep into The Three-Body Problem. Beneath all the science and high-level maths, it’s a damn smart hard sci-fi novel that somehow manages to feel both completely plausible and utterly ridiculous at the same time. I’m around three quarters of the way through and there have already been some pretty substantial twists.
Also, and this is entirely my problem, I’m finding the Chinese names harder to keep track of than I’d like, so I suspect I’ll need a second read-through anyway.
I’m still assaulting my little plastic people with all the enthusiasm of a happy amateur. It’s been around thirty years since I painted miniatures properly, and to say I’m rusty would imply there’s actually some metal underneath for the rust to stick to.
When I inevitably start posting pictures of my creations, just remember: these are not masterpieces.
These are crimes against miniature artists everywhere.
So, I’ve been busy creating, studying, and generally paying the bills with whatever skills I can throw at the universe.
Still no news from Asimov’s, and nothing yet from the library service job I was invited to apply for either. I’m trying to be all stoic about it and simply deal with whatever happens once the first domino decides to fall.
See you in the margins,
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