Y’all haven’t seen me in a while. Like several months. I’m a bad correspondent and I’ll be the first to admit it. However, this time I’m going to claim that it’s really not my fault.
Back at the time of my last post (September, 2021 for those keeping score) I was on a high because I’d started a new project with a friend of mine. We were just getting started and the project seemed to have such potential.
Well, it’s had more than potential…it’s had more pages written for the first draft than I’ve ever put together before. The thing is a sprawling, massive story and it’s only now coming to writing the climax. I can smell the end of the story oh so near.
But this is good, right? What does this have to do with not writing to you?
Just after I posted the wonderful news of the new project, I was diagnosed with cancer. Which is what I don’t recommend you take up as a hobby. Cancer is not fun. Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and rehab are not fun. I’ve had amazing doctors and the best care I can imagine. But the pain, exhaustion, and other effects of the treatments are real. Vertigo, nausea, liver damage, and did I mention pain?
I don’t think I would have made it through without the writing to sustain me. It’s been a beacon in the darkness. But I sure didn’t feel like talking much during the process (which still continues, just not with active treatments right now). So I let y’all slide. I’m sorry.
In the meantime, Fixit is two chapters away from a finished draft. The Hotel Bismarck is rattling along with a full head of steam and currently sits (in my estimation) at about two-thirds finished in the first draft.
I hope you’re still out there with me, making our way through this COVID hellscape and trying to figure out what to do next. I hope y’all are healthy, safe, and keeping your heads above water.
Promising to write to you more often,
–Regan