I’m taking a mini-vacation from work. We have tomorrow off anyway and the one piece of information I need to do the last report won’t be in my office until Monday.
What, you might ask, am I doing with all this free time? Going to the beach?
Nope. Daytona Beach is an hour away from my home in north central Florida, and I haven’t touched the waves with my bare feet in over 20 years….if I remember correctly. It could be 25 years.
I’m going over the first round of edits that Vickie completed on book 3, the First Level of Hell series.
- Book 1, Atto Run, is supposed to be ridiculously whacky.
- Book 2, Holding the Lines, is about premeditated marriage.
- Book 3, The Mothers of us All, is about the brilliant, crazy, sick, hopelessly flawed foundation of a new species.
Vickie will start working on book 4 after this — or maybe she’ll decide to edit book 1 of my latest 3-book series. That book is about Earth after there’s a world government, every soldier has a fake eye, and the military is a joke. A space ship commander returns from a 140 year mission only to find she’s circling Earth 4,000 years in the future. A different humanity is in charge, a civilization similar to Earth’s early 20th century.
Yes, I’d rather be reviewing edits than sitting on a beach getting a sunburn, or a jellyfish sting, or scurrying out of the water when someone yells, “SHARK!!!”
Isn’t that the way of life? If we have it, we don’t want it. If we finally get what we want, the price is too high.
I always wanted to live in the mountains. Someday I’ll write about my rather acute altitude sickness.