Typus Interruptus

So close to being done with The Ghost Brigades that I can taste it.

So naturally, I have to spend the morning in the car dealership, getting the car fixed.


(Yes, I could bring the laptop. Trust me, I can’t focus.)

8 thoughts on “Typus Interruptus

  1. John, I worked on the latest project on a cramped MD-88 flying between Atlanta and Cincinnati with no seatback tray.

    The sex scene I wrote made the guy next to me uncomfortable.

  2. Do you think the entire SF Muse Community is going to take a smoke break after you, me, and Charlie finish? *g*

    Oh, wait. They’re already on a smoke break.

    That’s why we’re not DONE!


  3. What I want is for those malevolent SF muses to LEAVE ME ALONE WHILE I’M AT MY DAY JOB. By the time I get home and try to summon some of the juicy ideas, all that’s left are crumbs. Stale crumbs at that, mixed with cat fur.

  4. That’s a bugger. Good to hear you’re almost finished. How late are you now?

    I shouldn’t talk. My next book’s due December and I haven’t started yet . . .

    Congrats on being in the tasting zone.

  5. The sex scene I wrote made the guy next to me uncomfortable.

    That’s one way to keep people from chattering at you for the entire flight.

    Why do I think the sex scene thing would only offer protection for male writers? With male seatmates …

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