You know how ever since I started writing for a living, I haven’t written much fiction at all?

Well, I went through some unfinished short stories tonight, instead of going through the Netflix selections–which is what I usually do on a Saturday night, because I are old. Of the four I went through, two of them actually fit together into what could very well be the basis for a new novel. Another of them came together in my mind so brilliantly that I sat down and spent what amounted to four hours drafting the whole damn thing. It’s about 3,300 words.

It’s called Jaybird. It’s gruesome, unnerving, and scary. I also think it’s highly truthful with an unexpected ending. I enjoy the way information has been parsed, and I enjoy the voice–though it will probably get some fine-tuning in a few days. Need to let it sit for a bit while I cleanse my literary palate with other things.

I’m more pleased with myself than I probably should be.

But, you know…take THAT, Guernica!!!

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