Or too short, however you look at it. In the past couple of weeks we have gotten more active, socially and otherwise, and I’ve realized I miss the solitude and slow life of quarantine. These are the things that change you in these times. But all times march on, and like other summers I suppose July and August will pass in a sunny blur. I hope so at least. This will be the first summer in 21 years I don’t face sending kids to school at the end of it, and that was always going to be a blessing but especially now, this year, this time. We have one son in college, the other in a gap year, and it’s a relief after the past several.
My writing marches on as slowly as June. I always write slowly, and especially in summer with somehow longer days and less time, but the passages I write do give me more insight into the characters and book. I have no idea how long it will be or how long writing it will last. It’s rather like these times in that. I do have a title: THE RELIC OF PORTHEUGH and as is my habit I won’t say much more than that about it until it’s sold, except it’s recognizable fantasy with I think not-so-classic characters. I would call the themes, mostly centered on haves and have-nots, lightly handled and somewhat remote from my life until we became acutely aware of billionaires making hundreds more billions off this blasted disease while others die in hospital hallways and nursing homes and at the hands of rabid, ill-equipped police officers.
Meanwhile there are quiet places left in the world and this summer you often can find me here, listening.
