I’m still finishing my final edit of my latest novel, Legends of the End I’m sure much to the frustration of my editor. Life has been complicated and sometimes finishing feels more like being stuck on a Möbius strip. I’ve needed to be there for Patti while she recovers from knee replacement and taking that time off has made it difficult to get my rhythm back. Funny for a musician to say that! I have been slogging through the last three chapters of Part One. The bulk of the novel takes place in this part so the stack of pages sitting next to me on my desk is getting smaller.
If I’m bringing you along for the ride then I should at least start at the birth of the Robin Randle Stories. At the time I was struggling, to put it lightly, with delayed onset Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The personal particulars aren’t important but what is important is the fact that PTSD is an indescribable thing. I can’t come up with the words that would impart to you the full scope of what it is like to be trapped inside yourself not knowing who the hell you are anymore. At the time I was working on a project I call Mercy Lake. I still want to develop that story but what happened was Robin Randle. She was supposed to be a waitress at a diner in the town of Mercy Lake. I didn’t feel she was going to become a major character in the story but I was having a hell of a time defining who she was at all.