It’s official. I’ve just started work on a novella. It’s part of a series that’s been bouncing around in my head for a while – and at least two of them I have to write, just to find out if I can. My novel was (and being able to talk about it in the past tense is just weird…) a fun, frothy sci-fi romp with lots of comedy. What I’m writing is bleak dark fantasy with a sexual edge, and it’s messed up in a whole variety of ways. It’s currently playing like a mixture of Carmen, Oldboy and The Doom Generation, by way of City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff Vandermeer (which, to anyone familiar with all those stories, is probably making no sense whatsoever), but it’s been sitting in my head for so long that I need to get it out. I’m trying to write some other short stuff mainly because I need to finish some stuff. I’m currently waiting for feedback on the novel… and the wait is a killer. I’d rather have something to occupy myself with, and I need to finish something before I start the next novel.

The cuddly Cthulhu sitting on my desk is telling me that it’s time for bed. Automatically rising at 7AM thanks to the sunrise (I usually sleep with an eyemask, but it’s gone missing) will do that to a guy…