Look at all those pages. They contain time-travelers, demons, wayward teens, psychopaths, dragons, and other mad adventurers. They’re all clamoring for their stories to be finished.

I’ve made this commitment to them before and then been lured off the path by even more shiny tales of the heartbroken, the daring, and the wicked.

So here we are again. By we I mean several hundred characters and me. There’ve been movies about this sort of thing, haven’t there? But my characters aren’t taking over or murdering me. Not yet anyway. I’m the killer in this situation.

Silly characters. Asking for attention when I might poison/drown/shoot/stab/wallop them on the next page.

I’ve finished working on Drowning Karma and now I’m moving on to the next.

I will resist the call of wild-eyed plots beckoning from the shadows for as long as I can. More and more characters already here will learn their fate. Wish them luck.

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Thanks for reading.