You'd think from all the guns that show up in my books, that I was a real weapons enthusiast. God help me, I'm not--in fact, truth be told, I'm pro-gun control, which doesn't make me popular in this part of the country. However, I love action-adventure almost as much as I love sci-fi. I think this is an acquired love that springs from living with five men. I either learned to like it or spend an inordinate amount of time in the bedroom waiting for the latest "Jackie Chan" or whatever to end.
Trouble-Waters is in the final stretch and I'm concerned that too much may be happening too fast, but I've decided to just let it rip and if it needs to be slowed down, then I can stretch things out later with sequel scenes in the re-write. I thought it would wind up around 85,000 once I added the villain's pov, but now I think it will be 75,000 as I'm now at roughly 60,000, it's flying and the next 5000 or so will be fairly intense.
On the real life front--I'm really enjoying my Christmas break, though worried about next week. With Gary laid off there will be no pay check at all and unemployment won't roll in until the week after. There's a house payment due, groceries and gas money . . . Something will give, but surviving hand to mouth gets old.
Meanwhile, I've got an old friend coming into town today. We've known each other since college. He was one of the handful of friends I stayed up all night with--arguing politics and religion and drinking. We teetered right on the edge of romance once or twice, but one of us always got sensible at the last minute. I wanted marriage and family; he wanted marriage--eventually--and no kids.
Everyone who knew us both in those days knew that he was the only one who could have given Gary competition, but didn't. After Gary and I got married, I expected him to disappear and he did--for nearly two years. One day, he just appeared without explanation or apology (or calling) on my doorstep and bought Gary and I dinner. We fell back into stride with one another as though there'd been no gap. He held my boys when they were babies, babysat once when I had to rush one to the hospital, and brought me books (Introduced me to Christopher Moore) and gave me the Ovation for my 32nd birthday which my oldest son is now playing.
I am amazed and pleased that he continues to surface at least annually. We don't drink much these days (I fall asleep after the second glass of wine . . .) and we have agreed to disagree about God's existence and--honestly--we agree about politics more than we don't. He is a confirmed bachelor, lives on a sailboat on the east coast and somehow makes me think of Hemingway in an Old Man and the Sea sort of way; he even likes cats.