Oh, it’s been forever since I last posted. The reason for that: I’ve been putting the finishing touches on my Crandall novel A DEATH IN DEEP SPACE — which is done! Really, seriously, ready-to-show-people done. Man, that’s weird to type. I’ve been working on that story in one form or another for five years, starting from a novelette that formed the basis of the longer novel and resurrected in a novel draft two years ago.
Anyway, I seem to have been tagged by my friend A. T. Greenblatt to actually show people some of my recent work, and to challenge a few other folks in turn. The “rules”: ‘The rules are simple: Post 7 sentences of your work, start on page 7, count 7 lines down. ‘ OK, I can probably handle that. As it happens I have the Scrivener document open for my next project already, a Claudius Rex mystery with the working title THE WRONG CLIENT, starring Claudius Rex and kind of an enormous run-on sentence.
“My apologies that I cannot join you in person. I
rarely ever leave my home in the Caribbean, least of all for
Boston where it is cold and damp.”
That was a lie, of course. He’d incorporated in St.
Martin–as a corporation, I mean, not any kind of physical
manifestation–but otherwise he existed in Boston as much as he
could be said to exist anywhere: his main routines were executed
by a small experimental device in the brownstone’s basement, a
location that a dozen spy agencies would not only kill to know,
they’d even say ‘please’.
“Ah, hello,” said a squirming Polder. “It’s, um, a pleasure
to meet you, Mr. Rex.” Again with the hand, but at least he
seemed to catch himself before offering it to an empty desk.