My effort to get The Road to Environmental Armageddon finished and published continues. Progress is being impeded by my reaction to the restrictions imposed on us by our response to the coronavirus.
While I’m waiting for responses from the few helpful souls who volunteered to betaread my manuscript, I should be working on proofreading the ms and making final technical edits, but I’m not. I’m thinking about the novel and how I might restructure it (a very bad idea, because if will just delay everything) as I work in my yard.
Spring has finally arrived, garden centers and lumber yards are open, and I have lots of work to do. The urge to be outside, even if it only ten metres from my house, is irresistible, and progress on my book has suffered.
One interesting thing has happened. Someone, I hope he’s on the level, has approached me to include a short story (Panhandler) I had published in Fifty Word Stories in an anthology he’s planning. The would-be anthologist is named Abdallah Altaiyeb and the story would be translated into Arabic. Seems rather strange, but if I could use it to help publicize my Armageddon stories in some minor way, it might be worthwhile.
I’ve been thinking about a new book, a follow-up to the Road to Environmental Armageddon. I’ve generated a rough outline. It would be set several hundred years in a post-apocalyptic future, and the first scene from chapter one would build on the incident with the panhandler described in the 50-word story. So, all this does tie together in a roundabout way.
Enough of this. Short post after two weeks absence, but I must get back to the garden. I’m rebuilding a fence, and right now it has a major gap that will let my neighbour’s dog escape if I’m not careful.