Tired...

Had a bit of a crash and burn, here. I've been working so hard on Carli's Kills, I think I've overdone it. I'm at the point where I'm changing words like and and the and so and still to make things move a bit easier, and suddenly I'm exhausted. I need to let this book go and accept it's as good as I can get it, now. Otherwise, I'll spend another six months polishing it.

So I'll finish this pass over it and, no matter what, it's done. I'll still find typos, later, I'm sure. Stupid things that I should have noticed but no longer can. Even my editor misses typos, and she's pretty damn good. I read a fascinating story about a first edition of Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn, printed in 1884, having a couple of typos. Those made it worth a lot of money. Maybe I should work CK up in a hardcover to see if a hundred years after my death it'll be worth a million bucks.

I'll need to take a break from writing, to recharge my batteries. I have a lot of books about The Troubles to read, so may indulge in those, again. Prep myself for the latest draft of the first book of A Place of Safety. I may also take some time to work up another adult coloring book, along the lines of Demented Dreams (of guys in trouble). It's a lot of work but takes me in a different direction, creatively.

I'm debating working one up to illustrate a part of Hunter. Or maybe a new one using aliens or time travel or something quirky. I once wrote a long-form poem about prisoners who escaped from jail and took a guard hostage...then had fun with him. That might be interesting, turning into a modern version of Tom of Finland or even more fun -- Etienne...

It would certainly serve my prurient needs...even at my age...