Fifteen….

Okay, now. Seriously. Cut it the fuck out.

I’m tired. I need a break.

But there was a reason why I had to finish Daughter of a One-Armed Man and not just because it’s a good book and I like the title. … though those are very good reasons. The reason I haven’t mentioned is that I wanted Vicky to know that I’ve been more inspired to write more books in the time I’ve been with her (that’s eight in just over three years) than in all the years I was with what's her name (seven in fifteen years). Vicky often plays “One Up The Ex” and this was no different.

So, yes, I’ve done it. I’ve finished the first draft of my 15th novel. It’s a book about love, of course, but mostly it shows what happens when people forget that disregard has no place in love. That includes disregard for yourself, for your lover, for family, children, neighbors, and even planet. For how can we say we love our children while we poison them? We can’t. What happens? Watch the news.

Yes, it’s a fable and it’s a morality tale and it’s just about the most complete book I’ve ever written. It has romance, comedy, pathos, and a topicality cut so deep it might be hard to read. But it’s also a story of hope, a story of what can be done even if it’s on a small scale. It may be supremely naïve – a story about how love, real love, is the only thing that can save us – but the cynic in me says we’re fucked any other way you look at it.

And so, I’m done. And I make you this promise. No more novels for at least a year.

You heard me. I am finished writing novels and I will not write any more for at least a year. In the meantime, I plan to devote more of my energy to actually selling one of these mother fuckers… dammit.

So, let’s party. Let’s enjoy.

Let’s rest.

(Oh, and if you read One Path just for the writing news, don't go away. Just cause I'm not writing novels doesn't mean I'm not selling them... or so I hope...)