THE PLAYLIST
Mills Brothers - Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You)
Jason Donovan - Sealed With A Kiss
The Mills Brothers - I'll Be Around
The Beach Boys - Don't Worry Baby
Owl City - If My Heart Was a House
The Mills Brothers - Till Then
We only see the things on the surface…
When Pirate Cove’s favorite mystery bookstore owner and
sometimes-amateur sleuth Ellery Page discovers a vintage diving collection bag
full of antique gold coins tucked away for safe-keeping in the stockroom of the
Crow’s Nest, it sets off a series of increasingly dangerous events, culminating
in murder.
“Cheers,” Jack said.
“Yo ho ho,” Ellery replied. He sipped his cobalt cocktail. “Mm.”
The tart sweetness of the cocktail and the crackling warmth of the nearby
fireplace were the perfect pairing for a chilly autumn night. He felt like he’d
been waiting to exhale ever since dumping those coins on his desk. “I have to
say I’m very relieved you-know-what is you-know-where. The thought that it was
just lying there in that cupboard all this time makes me feel a little queasy.”
“Any chance that it wasn’t in the cupboard the whole time? I
thought Felix said he left it out on a storage shelf.”
Felix Jones, Libby Tulley’s boyfriend and the son of Pirate
Cove’s previous mayor, had pitched in for a short time at the Crow’s Nest while
Ellery had been convalescing.
“He must have been mistaken. It was his last day at work and
his last day on the island, so it’s no wonder if he was distracted. When I asked
him, he barely remembered Cap giving him the bag.”
Jack made a noncommittal noise and sipped his beer.
“Whoever broke in would have to have been in a hurry.”
Jack conceded, “The assumption would be you had looked in
the bag and so it was unlikely to have been left in the shop at all.”
“Exactly!”
Jack studied Ellery for a moment. His smile twisted. “Let’s
not get ahead of ourselves. First off, there’s no proof the collection bag you
found belonged to Vernon Shandy. The assumption is the deep dive suit was his,
but there are plenty of other divers on this island. No one knows for a fact
who hid that suit in the warehouse with the Historical Society’s collection. Or
for what reason.”
“To hide those coins,” Ellery said.
Jack shook his head. “That’s an assumption.”
“It’s a working theory. And it’s the most logical.”
“Maybe. But let’s say you’re right. Let’s go with your theory
that the suit belonged to the Shandys and that the suit was stashed away to
hide the coins.”
“Doubloons.”
Jack laughed. “You really do love the idea of pirate’s
treasure, don’t you? If your eyes were any shinier, they’d be glowing.”
Ellery laughed and sat back in his chair. He shrugged.
“Okay, yes. I do love the idea of pirate’s treasure.”
“Especially pirate’s treasure with a mystery attached.”
Ellery couldn’t help pointing out, “Wouldn’t all pirates’
treasures have a certain amount of mystery attached?”
“Hm. Good point. But here’s what I was getting at. Even if
we go with your theory about who owned the collection bag and why it was
concealed, it still doesn’t prove those coins came from the Blood Red Rose.”
“Ah. Okay. You’re right.”
“There are a lot of wrecks in the waters around this island.”
“True. I’ll give you that one.”
Jack laughed. “Thank you. And finally, even if your theories
are correct about who owned the diving suit and collection bag, where the coins
came from, and why they were hidden in the Historical Society’s collection,
there’s still no proof that Vernon Shandy was murdered.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ellery objected. “Something
happened to him.”
“Something, yes. One way or the other, he left the island. That’s
for sure. But the surrounding circumstances are unknown.” As Ellery opened his
mouth to debate this, Jack continued, “And there are plenty of reasons the
Shandys might want to conceal those circumstances.”
Jack asked Ellery, “Are you driving back to Captain’s Seat
or staying over?”
There had been a time, not so long ago, when Jack would not
have so casually or so openly asked that question.
Ellery smiled. “If Watson and I haven’t worn out our
welcome?”
Jack gave him the slightest of winks and said to Tom,
“Another round, thanks.” He added to Ellery, “We can always walk home.”
Tom gave Ellery a droll look. “Coming right up!”
Tom departed, Ellery and Jack reached for the salt and
pepper shakers, exchanged the vinegar bottle, repositioned the little jars of
tartar sauce.
Jack broke off a piece of fried cod and said, as though
there had been no interruption, “I’m not trying to bust your balloon.
Obviously, there’s an element of mystery surrounding these events. It just
doesn’t automatically, inevitably indicate murder.”
“Well, no, of course not.” Ellery chewed thoughtfully on a
french fry.
Jack observed him for a moment. “Which isn’t going to stop
you from poking your nose into other people’s business and asking a lot of
awkward questions, is it?”
Ellery’s brows shot up in surprise. “Me? Come on,
Jack, whatever happened to Vernon Shandy is none of my business. Anyway, even
if something sinister did occur, it was over half a century ago. Nobody’s going
to remember anything this long after the fact. Assuming anyone involved is
still around. Which is unlikely. Right?”
Jack sighed, shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”
There are practical aspects to having your work translated, as well, of course. First off, we're all always seeking ways to expand our audience, Secondly, that passive income stream can occasionally be a lifesaver. Which is why I warn against blithely handing over your translation rights when you sign with a publisher. Just because no one is interesting in translating you now doesn't mean that will always be the case. The global market is booming. Which means so is the translation market.
My work's been translated into a number of languages at this point, and I still love seeing the translated covers and hearing from fans who've only (or mostly) read me in their native language. Their comments and questions are particularly interesting, framed as they are by cultural differences.
Anyway, my Japanese translations are some of my very favorites. Partly that has to do with how engaged the Japanese readership is, partly it has to do with the fact that (the publisher) Shinshokan has been really good to work with--I feel like over the years my translator has become a friend--and partly it has to do with the fact that these translations are illustrated. Because of the wonderful art, a surprising number of my readers who don't speak Japanese have gone ahead and bought the translations! (So...kind of genuis on the part of the publisher. ;-))
Because I'm asked so often about the translation process (by other writers, yes, but also by readers), I thought it would be interesting to "interview" translator Aki Fuyuto and artist Yooichi Kadono (who, among other works, does the illustrations on the Art of Murder series).
OH YEAH, WRITING.
And yet, I seem to have so little to show for it.
Of course, writing is not all I've been doing. We had our very dear friends from Finland staying with us for a few days. We had the preparation and celebration of our annual 4th of July party. I had rehearsals for our gig in Pleasanton this September (for those who don't know, in my other life, I'm in a Celtic band and we've started accepting gigs again WHY????????? But anyway...)
One thing that slowed me down was finishing up Hide and Seek. It turned out to be way longer than I'd anticipated AND the edits were more extensive. So I started Lament at Loon Landing late (try saying that fast three times) but quickly--though not quickly enough--realized I wasn't going to finish in time to be able to start Death at the Deep Dive so as not to also miss that deadline (and lose all my preorders).
So now I'm working on Death at the Deep Dive (which I'm LOVING) but that means that Book 7 in the series will come out before Book 6.
I know.
But here's the thing, I could pretty much change the book numbers and it wouldn't make much difference except that the way I'm doing the series is each book is set in a particular month based on what's going on on the island (the real island, Block Island, I mean). AND I wanted a book in between Body at Bucanneer's Bay and the plot point resolutions of Death at the Deep Dive. It's not crucial, but as far as the pacing of the series overall, I feel like that's important. So yes, the first few thousand readers won't have the benefit of that elongated pacing, but the first few thousand readers probably feel I'm overthinking it. ;-)
As far as overall story arcs, nothing that happens in Book 7 affects the mystery stuff in Book 6.
There are some other developments that will be slightly out of order, but in the long run, nothing major. Or at least, I don't think it's anything major. HOW SHOULD I KNOW?
Oh, and as for when Book 6 Lament at Loon Landing will actually come out?
Here's the thing. After I finish Death at the Deep Dive, I need to promote and catch up everything else for a day or two (because it's like weeks since I've responded to email or messages) and then rehearsals and then I have to get my booster shot so that I've got as much immunity as possible before we do this Labor Day gig. Having had Covid once, I'm really, really, REALLY eager not to contract the BA.5E = mc^2 variant. But I do seem to get knocked on my ass by the boosters, so I'll lose some writing time there. Then there is the gig itself (which is roughly five days including travel and prep).
I'm trying to be realistic, and realistically, it's probably going to be mid-September.
And honestly, that might be optimistic, because sometimes I get tired.
Sometimes, every month or so, I need a rest.
But anyway, I know the updates have been few and far between, so I figured I better explain myself before the confusion about release dates reaches critical mass.OH! Next week, I've got something special planned for the blog! A "conversation" with the wonderful Aki Fuyuto, who does the Japanese translations for my books with Shinshokan, and Yooichi Kadono, the brilliant artist who does so many of the illustrations. I found it so interesting, and I think you will too. ;-)
When Pirate Cove’s favorite mystery bookstore owner and
sometimes-amateur sleuth Ellery Page discovers a vintage diving collection bag
full of antique gold coins tucked away for safe-keeping in the stockroom of the
Crow’s Nest, it sets off a series of increasingly dangerous events, culminating
in Jack Carson trying to cook dinner. Er…culminating in murder.
Mills Brothers - Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You)
The Surfaris - Wipe Out
Regina Spektor - The Call
The Beach Boys - I Get Around
Jason Donovan - Sealed With A Kiss
The Mills Brothers - I'll Be Around
One Direction - Fireproof
OneRepublic - Someday
The Beach Boys - Don't Worry, Baby
Dick Dale - Miserlou
Owl City - If My Heart Was a House
The Mills Brothers - Till Then
In the meantime, I've been listening to the playlist I made for the book, and you might enjoy it as well.
Because this installment takes place during a maritime musical festival on Buck Island, you'd probably expect to hear more (or some) sea chanteys, but somehow that's not happening.
The Kathleen Edwards' songs seem to represent the character of Lara Fairchild, and her character is changing as I write. She's more complicated and more of a catalyst than I originally thought.
Also, Jack and Ellery are pretty solid at this point. They don't have an official commitment, but they're obviously committed to each other despite their occasional clashes. I mean, occasional clashes are a fact of any long term relationship. In book time they've only known each other a few months, so they're actually moving pretty quickly. If this was real life, the people closest to them would be telling them to pump the brakes. Not counting the islanders, of course, because they can see what's what.
Anyway, the playlist...
Goodnight, California - Kathleen Edwards
The Dark and Rolling Sea - Al Stewart
Anyway, what a difference a year makes. Last Memorial Day was the weekend everything started to go off the rails, and it went downhill from there. But the good news is this year we have running water, air conditioning, no sick doggies...no drama and no trauma. Yes the people in the house of doom did nearly start another backyard fire with their barbecue, but this time one of their guests saved the day. I just can't...
DID I MENTION I ACCIDENTLY DELETED MY MAILING LIST?
I mean, it wasn't totally by accident. I detest Mailchimp and pressing that DIE, DIE, DIE button was SO (momentarily) satisfying. And I did preserve all the names and emails of my little bitty list. I just haven't had time to do anything with them. YET. Obviously, I'm going to fix that.
So the good news is The Movie-Town Murders (Art of Murder 5) is out and available.
THAT DIDN'T TAKE SO LONG, DID IT?
Ouch.
And Hide and Seek is just about complete. This month for sure.
But given the fact that I now write five words a day (KIDDING, though there are days it feels like it) I had to remove Lament at Loon Landing as a preorder on Amazon. I can't write a book in two weeks. Yes. there are them what can and yay for them. I need more time.
Plus, I haven't had massage/physical therapy in over two years and, no surprise, my achy-breaky wrists are feeling it big time. So I'm aiming for the end of June for Lament at Loon Landing. Basically, we're looking at two weeks longer than originally planned? Fingers crossed.
From that point on, I might actually be able to stay on schedule. I mean, stranger things have happened.
There is a LOT of catch up needed on a LOT of things, but at least I'm writing again every day and the books are coming, slowwwwwwly but surely.
More news to follow. ;-)
Working undercover gives FBI Art Crime Team agent Jason West
the illusion that he’s safe from his stalker, Dr. Jeremy Kyser. Though film
history and preservation are not Jason’s area of expertise, he’s intrigued by
the case of a well-connected UCLA film studies professor whose family believes
she may have been murdered after discovering a legendary lost 1950s PI film.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, BAU Chief Sam
Kennedy gets disturbing news: the Roadside Ripper, the serial killer Sam
believes murdered his college boyfriend, may not have been working alone.
He didn’t sleep well.
Thirty-one stories up, the wind pushed against the floor-to-ceiling
windows and whispered outside the glass doors. Jason’s dreams went from bad to
worse, and he woke, heart pounding, drenched in sweat, with Jeremy Kyser’s
weird sing-songy, “Agent West?” ringing in his ears.
He knew where he was. Knew he was perfectly safe.
Yet it was all he could do not to reach for his Glock. All
he could do not to turn on a lamp. It turned into a battle of will, lying there
in the dark, listening to the building sway and moan. He was not going to give
into irrational fear. He was not going to let Kyser control his life. Not in
the big things. Not in the little things.
Which didn’t change the fact that he’d give a lot to know
where Kyser was right at this minute.
The important thing was he was not standing on the
balcony outside this room.
So…get a grip, West.
Jason punched his pillow and did what he usually did when he
couldn’t sleep. Well, one of the things he usually did. In this instance, it
was run over the details of his case.
He kept coming back to his victim.
The one thing everyone seemed to agree on was that Georgette Ono was difficult.
The other thing everyone—with the understandable exception
of Touchstone’s security team—agreed on was that it was almost as hard
to believe she’d accidentally killed herself as it was to believe she committed
suicide.
The problem was…
Well, there were a number of problems.
One, he was there to reassure the family, not reopen the
case. No one wanted a coverup. But there was also no expectation that Jason was
actually going to find anything. In fact, the expectation was the opposite.
If he actually reopened the case, turned it into an active
homicide investigation, there would be, at best, a mixed reception from his
superiors.
Two, even if he privately believed Ono was the victim of
homicide, he had no real suspect and no real motive.
Even if LAPD had failed to discover Ono’s allegedly
contentious relationship with Touchstone’s security—which seemed unlikely,
since the head of security apparently had no issue in sharing that info with
J.J.—it didn’t feel like enough of a motive.
Speculation was going to make it harder not easier on the
Ono family.
Three—and this had nothing to do with his case—he felt like
with each phone call, he and Sam were getting further apart. They were both
reasonably articulate, they both wanted this relationship to work, so what was
going on?
Was it just him or was it Sam too? He honestly wasn’t sure.
“Hell,” Jason muttered, and reached for his cell, peering at
the screen.
Just after two, which meant, Sam might be asleep. He tended to
crash around ten and be up and running—literally—by four. Jason tried not to
interrupt those few precious hours when Sam allowed himself the luxury of
turning off, but tonight…
Tonight, the distance between them was harder to take than
usual.
He struggled with himself for a minute or two, then pressed
Sam’s number.
Sam answered on the half-ring. “Hey.” He sounded wide awake;
his voice as soft as if they were lying facing each other. “Bad dreams?”
Jason let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was
holding. “No. I didn’t like the way we left things tonight.”
“Me neither.” No hesitation. It was like Sam had been lying
there thinking the same.
“The thing about trying to make this work long distance
is…not letting stuff pile up.”
He could feel Sam thinking that over. “What’s piling up,
Jason?”
Jason not West. Jason considered that demarcation.
Considered the careful gravity of Sam’s voice.
“I want to make sure you don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not
that I don’t—”
“Trust me?” Sam sounded dry.
“Yes. It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“What is it then? Because there’s something.”
“It’s a fine line for both of us. That’s the lesson of
Montana. You’re not just another agent. You’re a unit chief. There are
potential conflicts.”
“That might hold water if you were in my unit.” No give. No
leeway.
“Okay, let’s call it priorities.”
Sam said crisply, “You’re my priority.”
Jason gave a shaky laugh. “Well, wait a minute, because
that’s not accurate. It’s not even the agreement we made. It’s not my
expectation.”
He could hear the shrug in Sam’s voice. “Nor was it mine,
but that’s the way it’s playing out.”
Did Sam really believe that? He was no liar, so yeah, he
believed what he was saying. But what he was saying was not an accurate
reflection of, well, you name it. It certainly didn’t reflect Jason’s
experience.
“Since when?”
Once again there was that uncharacteristic wry note in Sam’s
tone. “Probably since the morning you arrived at my hotel door barefoot, hair
dripping, hollering how dare I phone SAC Manning about your fitness for duty.”
At the time, they’d known each other less than twenty-four
hours. Now it felt like a million years ago.
“Hey, I never said how dare you.”
“Maybe not those exact words.” Sam actually sounded amused
at the memory. “You were highly offended.”
Was Sam really implying he’d started to fall for Jason the
morning after they’d met? For Jason, the awareness had been instant, the
attraction had followed against his better judgment, but once he’d fallen, he’d
acknowledged it, accepted it. Sam might have been interested and attracted, but
he had fought those feelings long and hard. So Jason couldn’t help feeling a
little skeptical.
Whatever it is you need, Jason, I’m probably not that
guy.
“As I recall, the agreement was work would always come first
for you and that I was willing to accept that for however long I could.”
“We all have our dreams,” Sam said. “That one fell by the
roadside a long time ago.”
He was being ironic, but yeah. True. There was no point in
rehashing ancient history. Sam had drawn the rules of engagement. Sam had also
been the first to break those rules.
======================================
So yes, The Movie-Town Murders is now live on Amazon, Smashwords, Google Books, and Barnes and Noble.
It's not yet live on iBooks or Kobo. I'll try to get that taken care of. It has to do with the fact that Smashwords requires the final file TEN DAYS AHEAD OF EVERYONE ELSE. And I fulfill iBooks and Kobo through Smashwords, so I end up having to push the dates on those two back. It's not ideal, and I have to come up with a better plan.
PRINT IS COMING. Probably over the weekend?
AUDIO is coming but I can't tell you when.
Good morning!
Which brings us to today's guest, Frank Spinelli, author of the terrific gay medical thriller-romance Perfect Flaw (Blind Eye Books).
(This book has everything I love: a flawed (AKA human) protagonist, a sexy cop boyfriend, mystery grounded in true crime, plenty of suspense and a few surprises.)
Perfect Flaw is available in print, digital and in audio narrated by Cooper North.
In fact, I believe we have an audio code to giveaway, so comment below!
When newly-minted Dr. Angelo Perrotta joins an exclusive concierge medical practice, he believes he has found success. His charismatic colleague, Demetre Kostas only adds to the promise of the new job. But when a series of tragic events transform his dream job into a nightmare, Angelo is confronted by disturbing accusations and the even more troubling cop, Jason Murphy. Now Angelo must unravel the secret entanglements surrounding him not just to save his career, but his life.
Balancing Truth in Fiction Writing: The Struggle is Real by Frank Spinelli
Before I wrote my first gay romantic thriller entitled,
Perfect Flaw, I worked on a memoir entitled, The First Year. A story about a
young Italian doctor in New York who lands his dream job, working for a Park
Avenue practice, only to become entangled in a murder investigation after a
colleague, posing as a physician, kills a patient.
But I struggled writing about my first year in private
practice because I did not want to disrespect the death of an innocent woman. Anyway,
did I really need to write another memoir? I had already written Pee-Shy, which
recounted my history of childhood sexual abuse by my scoutmaster who I brought
to justice thirty years later. Writing a memoir is cathartic; it’s also
grueling and painful. Reliving those years of abuse, revealing intimate details
of my marriage, and exposing my family to that pain again after we had repaired
our relationship opened old wounds. Plus, whenever someone I knew read Pee-Shy,
they looked at me like I was that abused eleven-year-old boy, not a grown
adult. Did I really want to do that to my husband, my family and myself again?
No.
So, I put The First Year to rest in a file on my desktop. Years
later, I thought, what if I didn’t write it as a memoir? Imagine a story about
a young, Italian doctor who becomes ensnared by a seductive colleague and
unwittingly makes mistake after mistake so that his life is upended after a
woman is found dead? Sounds familiar? Yes, but the similarities to my real life
end there.
Perfect Flaw is lifted from the headlines, but once I
decided to write it as fiction – in fact, my editor, Nicole Kimberling,
encouraged me to write it in the third person – I felt the lock of a
metaphorical ball and chain release.
Now, I had license to do whatever I wanted to these
characters. My job was not to relate my real experience but to paint my
protagonist, Angelo Perrotta, into a corner and then figure a way to get him
out of trouble. “Raise the stakes,” is a term I had heard so often by my writer
friends, but I hadn’t understood what that meant until I was inventing a story,
rather than just relating one. So, I raised the stakes and then kept raising
them. I wasn’t so precious about the accuracy of the events because guess what?
My book wasn’t a memoir anymore.
Perfect Flaw is based on something that happened in real
life, yes, but it’s not about me. It’s about Angelo and his sexy cop boyfriend,
Jason.
Still, because I am a doctor in real life, readers believe
that much of what goes on in Perfect Flaw is drawn from my life, which took
some getting used to. There is no escaping this trap. Readers fill in the blanks
with theories about where Frank Spinelli ends, and Angelo Perrotta begins in
the same way that I, myself, wondered how much Jack Torrance from The Shining
was Stephen King.
We all write partially from personal experience, but also
draw from other sources. We draw from our friends, family, and acquaintances.
We draw from research and even from other stories to create a whole cast of
characters. This is one of the reasons why writing fiction should have nothing
to do with the writer’s sex assigned at birth or their gender identity or
sexual orientation. Writers create the entire world of the novel, and every
single character in it.
Still, now that I’ve moved away from memoir, I’m careful not
to include too much of myself in my fiction.
Of course, I can’t help it.
My first rule is that I never include precious personal memories
in my fiction because I must save those special moments for myself. Besides
making stuff up is way more fun. I can’t think of a better job than creating
vivid characters and then throwing them into peril. The second rule is to read
while I write. Once I listened to an interview the author Jennifer Egan who
said, write what you like and read the genre of what you want to write. No
truer words have been spoken when it comes to writing.
He has contributed articles for the Advocate and The Huffington Post. Writing credits include: The Advocate Guide to Gay Men’s Health and Wellness (Alyson Books),
Pee-Shy: A Memoir (Kensington Books), which has been optioned to be developed into a limited series and contributing author – Our Naked Lives (Bordighera Press) and Understanding the Sexual Betrayal of Boys and Men (Routledge).
He has made appearances on Sirius Radio’s Morning Jolt with Larry Flick and co-hosted Speak Out: Real Talk about AIDS.
Documentary credits include, 30 Years from Here (Emmy-nominated), Positive Youth and I’m a Porn Star.
Television credits include ABC News, NBC Nightly News, MTV, a national commercial and Sesame Street. In 2015, he hosted a season of Dueling Doctors.
Frank Spinelli is an advocate for child sexual abuse survivors and has given frequent interviews about his experience as a victim of sexual abuse while in the Boy Scouts.
Perfect Flaw is his first novel.
ARGH.
But I mean, it is what it is. I'm writing as fast as I can. Granted, at the moment that doesn't seem to be more than about 500 words a day per project.
Do you ever go through one of those cycles where, no matter what you do or how careful you are in the doing of it, WITHOUT FAIL it comes bouncing back with a bunch of problems? That's me right now. Everything I start either ends with me falling down a rabbit hole or, worse, boomeranging back to hit me between the eyes.
But on we go...
Anyway, all is not lost. The Office Elf is slowly excavating my office from beneath years-worth of using it as a giant file cabinet. I might, in theory, soon be able to work in there again. I learned to make the perfect margarita. I discovered the series What We Do in the Shadows and rediscovered Aimee Mann. My miniature Japanese maples seem to have survived their first winter and so far the three roses I moved to larger pots are hanging on by their tendrils (I do not have luck transplanting roses, so I'm cautiously hopeful). We had a short cold spell, but it's warming up again, so I should be swimming tomorrow. AND I'll be celebrating Easter with my family for the first time in two years.
So...lots to be glad about.
I'm strenuously avoiding the news as much as is feasible and I've cut way back on both True Crime and social media. All of which has left me calmer and more optimistic and, believe it or not, more productive. ;-)
So what's up with you?
And, if the weatherman is to be believed, it will be warm enough to swim for most of the NEXT two weeks. Usually, we don't get these long stretches of warm weather until we hit May, so that's both the good news and the bad news. Good news for me. Probably not so good for the planet. It's major drought time in California.
But we're all gonna die anyway, so oh well.
(I try not to say that around the Office Elf as it doesn't inspire her to do her best work.) ;-D
So it's been a crazy-ass distracted start to the year, no lie--and also no signs of that letting up anytime soon either as we're once again trying to refinance the house. Also I'm going through getting our rental property up to snuff. This is time-consuming and nerve-frazzling stuff that I've been putting off for years, and now it has to be dealt with.
But about the books.
Hide and Seek is coming along beautifully--that 500 words a day thing is really paying off in a chapter a week.
The Movie-Town Murders is also coming along, but it's a more complicated story and, as I said, there have been a LOT of interruptions. Also a LOT of rewriting. I know I'm overthinking it, but at the same time, I have to be happy with it. Hopefully, hopefully, HOPEFULLYFORTHELOVEOFGOD I'll be finishing up by the end of this month.
I've got (I think) half the book, but despite my detailed outline, I'm not writing in linear fashion, so it's more like...well, picture the parts of a clock--gears, springs, tiny cuckoo bird--scattered across a work desk. The bits and pieces are all there, but not in working order. Not yet.
But it's coming. And I really love where Sam and Jason's relationship is at.
BUT CAN IT LAST?
Who knows.
Anyway, after The Movie-Town Murders, I jump right into the next two Secrets and Scrabble books, and then...I don't know. I don't have anything else officially scheduled. There are plenty of things I want to write--I really, really want to finish the Holmes & Moriarity series this year--but given how insanely slow things are going right now, I'm afraid to commit to anything. To be honest, this year's goals weren't about books and writing so much as getting my house in order. My literal house but also my metaphorical house.
So that's where we are. I'm working, I'm writing, the books are happening, but I've resigned myself to the fact that this year someone or something is going to be knocking at my office door every half-hour. I'm trying to be patient and good-humored about it. Four months in, I can safely say this is not the year I planned, but what else is new?