Okay, so I haven’t been posting much recently. Here’s what’s up.
- The fecal stew formerly known as Twitter. I know I should be active there. I just… can’t. Totally discouraging. Maybe Threads will emerge victorious… or at least interesting. Though I gotta say, Zuck and Musk in a cage fight would like the 1919 Chicago White (Black) Sox versus the 2017 Houston Astros.
- Busy doing actual writing stuff. Seriously. I’m just not a good multitasker. If I’m immersed in a project, I tend to stay with it. But yeah, I’m clearly not writing sixteen hours a day. Or even fifteen, allowing for caloric input and output, keeping my teeth from rotting, and – oh, wait, I have a family too. So be it resolved: I can do a better job. And will. Or will try.
- Speaking of actual writing stuff: Octothorpe is complete and now renamed – because eight people in the world besides you, my educated reader, know what an octothorpe is – #TaurusTempleLives. (The hashtag is part of the title.)
- I’ve also finished – here’s where I’ve been heads-down busy – a novel of 1604 London called The Precise Man. It’s got lots of real folks in it, or at least my take on real folks. Like Will Shakespeare. And Edward de Vere, who some people think wrote the plays attributed to that other guy. King James. Cameos by Sir Robert Cecil, Tom Middleton, Dick Burbage, and John Heminges. And Edmund “Ned” Tilney, the Master of the Revels, responsible for licensing all plays performed in England. And protecting the crown, because in those days, the theater was the way voices were heard and – occasionally – rebellions were incited. It’s weirdly formatted, with footnotes – don’t worry, they’re intentionally useless! Eventually I’ll figure out how to post an excerpt. Probably PDF.