Well, that’s been a weird few weeks. Groundhog Day all over again every morning. “What day is it, today? Is it yesterday or tomorrow?”
The writing community seems to have fallen into two camps. Some were fired up, churning out thousands of words a minute, mainly about fictional global virus infections, it seems. (Good luck with sales.)
Other writers fell into a lethargy, with slipping deadlines and lengthening ‘To Do’ lists as the days blurred in an endless stream of sameness.
Where did I fall? I raise my hand. Lethargy. I’ve been physically drained and foggy-brained for weeks. It didn’t seem serious enough to trouble an over-pressured health service. All praise to those health workers, by the way.
Meanwhile, I’ve encountered (at a “social distance”) many of my neighbors during my daily exercise walks in the local park, people I never spoke with before. So that’s a bonus and my French has improved!
Anyway, now I’m catching up. Private Vices will be hitting the shelves in a few weeks…
Private Vices: Bright Lights, Dark Lives
1950’s L.A. Down-at-heel private eye back from the war takes a case he doesn’t want but can’t afford to turn down.
The client is lying. The Feds are lying. Even his friends are lying. Along the way, he runs afoul of the Mob. Their tame cops are leaning on him. People around him start dying.
The only bright light is the librarian he’s fallen for, whose life he puts at risk.
He can handle all that, but now he’s seeing a ghost.
I also shook the cobwebs off my upcoming far-future sci-fi series and woke up my protagonists, who are eager for action.
Let the keyboard rattle!