Hi ho

I've got a verbal agreement for Earnest in July. I have a meeting over a possible gig. And the email chain has re-started on a thing I might come back to my old workplace to work on. I've got most of the things signed over even if I haven't quite figured out what to do with the 401k, but I have yet to get those new glasses.

Or clean the apartment.

Based on current pace, revisions on The Early Fox will take another month. I wish it was faster. I wanted to do all five books. More than that, I feel the process is so good I want to be using beta readers (and editors, if I can afford it) from here on in.

If I could kick them out the door faster... Six months, maybe. Would help with less research. I mean, I like the big questions, but I spent hours checking the color of the awning on a burger joint that I don't even name in the novel (it's the Blake's Lotaburger in Albuquerque).

Maybe I don't have to do this. Maybe I can be a little...looser.

While I was taking a nice walk I realized that, IF Early Fox gets some traction, and IF I can kick out a book every six months, I've a stack of plot ideas for that series that actually seem to line up in a sensible way.

First, I have to keep her in the small towns. Do the coal mine thing. That's when she joins an amateur preservationist and gets involved in old sins of the Ludlow Massacre.

Then a wacky experimental one. It is told in third-person because the framing story is Penny waking up in a hospital with amnesia, and being handed news clippings that lets her try to reconstruct just what strange things she was up to over the last few months. Like, getting injected with a zombie drug, taking up boxing, falling in love, and doing a b-movie armed assault on a burning drug lab. And, oh yeah, since she doesn't remember any of this, the New Orleans setting can be largely "without reference material."

Probably stay in the small town for one more (the Big Easy ain't small, but...) and do the tech center in the backwoods.

Then go weird again, hanging out with an ethnomusicologist, learning to play the talharpa, and ending up with a Viking-folk band on the circuit. There's the Kensington Runestone, there's people muttering "Winter is coming," and there's a big hint of old gods.

And possibly stay with the gods and get her out of the States again. This is the one on the boat; a repossessed millionaire's playpen in international waters, filled with enough dubious antiquities that multiple nations are arguing repatriation and have flown out their worker bees to identify the stuff.

And I also have more ideas for Blue. Including some idea of what happens in the second book. But I'll leave all that for another post.