It’s a strange time. From my point of view, it’s always been a strange time, but this time, right now, March 27, 2020, 12:48 PM, manhandles all the others for end time weirdness. My wife and I are in relative isolation in Yuma, Arizona, ears to the Earth and eyes on the horizon, living simply and parsing what information we fill our heads with.
It’s not a bad place to be. It’s warm, where virtually everywhere else in the nation is cold and wet. The snowbirds have for the most part left. You can drive right down mainstreet and hit every light green. The wildlife has come out of seclusion. Roadrunners are clobbering the lizard population in timeless dinosaur violence. Bird species are migrating through, oblivious to the daily newsfeed. Tumbleweeds aren’t filling the roadways yet, but give them time.
Certainly it’s an odd time to sell ones first novel, Two Hours Before Winter, which outside of training to stay a step ahead of the zombie hordes is what I’m doing for work these days. I’ll say no more about it other than stay posted for the first ten to twenty pages to be made available here in the coming week.
Also, a print version of Divided Dog and Other Stories will be available through Amazon sometime in the next few weeks, a process I’ve put off for years and suddenly have time for…
Hope this finds you healthy and enjoying the things you forgot you liked.