January 25, 2021
Rumors of the demise of ol’ Seamie Eaton are, as such rumors tend to be, greatly exaggerated. There are places to go still, and things to undo, and no Covid or Capitol unrest or cod for lunch is going to thwart those grim and enduring and disproportionate realities. William lives, man, he lives, and the others, they live, and they’ve got much to say, much to do, and much to know. Like you, if you’re still out there and still with me.
The second book is 96% done. The last 4% represents a 2000% increase in anal agony, doncha know, but I’ve been there before, and if you’re alive and kicking in this day and age, so have you. We persist. We do what’s in front of us to do.
There have been chunks of time during which I hid from writing, if I’m honest. The story is so big, the possibilities so punitively endless…but Arba wouldn’t leave me be. It haunts, it bugs, it wakes me up. In other words, like Seamus, it lives and will at some point lurch forward.
From what I understand, there are other fantasy writers out there who take many years to come out with books 2, 3, 4, whichever…so if Arba the Second is published before August, I’m way ahead of the game, coming in at under three years. And if I’m honest, I can tell you Book 3 is largely written as well. It has to do with (and here I hope I don’t reveal too much) sometimes writing a chapter but not being quite sure where in the story it belongs. Sometimes it doesn’t belong anywhere.
I hope you and all those you love are healthy and sane and waiting on, if they haven’t already received it, the vaccine that just may let us all hug, toast, wrestle, high-five, slow dance and huddle again. Like so many of you, I’ve gotten by without giving much thought to what it all means, what it all costs, and what changed. What don’t we know about this pandemic and its impact? What will we never know?
Not sure. That’s the point. But what I do know (to quote Morpheus) is: WE ARE STILL HERE!