It's been a quiet week. Mostly.
I've been beavering away at the edits for THE END, finishing off a commissioned story and working on a potential three-novel pitch called THE CONCRETE GROVE; sort of clearing the decks before launching headlong into DEAD BAD THINGS, the second book for Angry Robot.
Working on the pitch got me thinking about my direction as a writer. I've certainly become an accidental novelist of late: the longer format appeals to me in so many ways. I've also got a lot of stories I want to tell, and all of them seem to be demanding a novel-length platform. Situations, characters, histories...they're all crowding my head and yelling to be heard.
So, hopefully these novels will all see the light of day over the next few years, and I can build something of worth. If not, I'll have a fucking good time trying.