Splitting my time between my story for E is for Evil and sketching out scenes for Leviathan, all while working my way through the last few episodes of American Gods. Because, um:
There is a sense, these days, of slowly emerging from a tunnel into light, a tunnel that stretches all the way back to the end of 2015. A faint glow that minutely increases each day after day after day after … it’s a fresh challenge to my natural impatience, but for once I feel like I have enough of a toolkit to curb that anxiousness, to focus on what needs to be done, to trust that the light is coming.
Oh, and my essay is finally out! “Writing as a Painter” is live at Fiction Southeast. A long time waiting for this to appear, but it still feels like a kind of truth for me.