Last Friday, I finished the first draft of my seventeenth novel.

*boggles*

*boggles some more*

I must admit I love this age we live in, when I can write what I want and publish it and trust that readers will find it. My sales continue to improve. (I figure my craft is improving as well, with all the practice I’m getting in.)

Hell, by this time next year, I may be fully supporting myself with this writing gig.

The next novel of mine will come out February 24th, Of Myst and Folly, a post-apocalyptic fairy tale.

Bombs destroyed all the major cities of the world almost two centuries ago.

The bombs opened rifts. Magic and myst flowed into the world.

Electronic devices no longer work. Only simple mechanical devices. Man learned to farm again, in curving rows that myst can’t gather in.

For decades, the myst has gained strength slowly. Destroyed people, fields, villages a little at a time. Because the myst is scattered, unfocused.

When the myst finds its champion, will man survive?

After that, probably at the end of March, I’ll publish A Sword’s Poem.

And after that, possibly the end of April, I’ll publish Tainted Waters, a sequel to Poisoned Pearls.