It’s all her fault.

It is all my baby sister’s fault. I wrote a short story for her about another Harley rider. Then she dropped just a couple of little hints that she really would like to see it expanded. Well shoot if the characters in the story didn’t agree. I think they must have been dream plotting against me. This one, Gray Matters, revolves around two middle aged people who are free from the responsibilities which have kept them focused on taking care of business. One goes on an adventure the other isn’t quite sure what to do. So on Tuesday I began turning the thing into a novella. I don’t care what the three of them think a novella is all they are getting.

Now I have to put together a cover and edit the thing. Drat it anyway. All this while the book about the boy and his big cat are harping at me about finishing. And I do have to be careful here, that cat has some fairly large fangs and claws. But at least I’m three quarters done.

Copper River and Mount Sanford.

Copper River and Mount Sanford.

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