Last rounds of medical treatments ended a few months ago. They will be the last. I'm technically doing much better but most days I sure don't feel like it. If you're ever in the mood to lose a hundred pounds fast I recommend chemo. The VA hospital that treats me is good. Still, I don't have a lot of energy, for, well, anything. Only the last week or so I've been able to write again without my brain not getting foggy after a few minutes. Got 700 words done today. Hope that trend continues?
Working on the next few chapters of Playing Ball. Mostly rewriting the ones my flash drive lost. I think they're better now but who knows? I give up promising when they'll be posted. Soon, I hope. Whatever that means anymore. If nothing else I'd like to finish this one, but if somehow I manage to stay on this planet a bit longer hopefully I'll write more.
I found myself wishing that I'd set Playing Ball in the Eighties. Apart from it a better time (for me) I've always wanted to write a semi believable generational incest story. Would love a sequel that features the long term aftermath of what Cherie and her sons are doing. Won't happen the way it's written now though. Still, my idle dream.
Anyway, not too much longer to wait I hope. Don't bet in that in Vegas though. My previous predictions have always been wrong. Definitely before George R.R. Martin does the next Game of Thrones book though. I can't write that fucking slow.