Ever
have a bad day at black rock? Today is mine.
An
arctic cold front moved in to shake the last leaves off trees and scatter them
willy-nilly. Dangerous thunderstorms last night left many residents without
power. The winds are so vicious that Chicago has closed the Skyway until
further notice. Wind gusts of 60 to 90 miles an hour rip shingles from rooftops
and tear down powerlines.
I
wrote about killer winds in Winds: A
Novel (November 2015, 2AM Publications, ISBN 978-0-937491-16-4), and today
I feel like a character from that novel. I feel hunted and haunted and
targeted. I’m running for my life in a vain attempt to escape.
It’s
a perfect day to make revisions to Impossible,
the second novel in my Under the Gun
series of thrillers. I love the four main characters in Impossible. I don’t want any of them to die. Unfortunately, each of
them is hunting the others and it seems impossible that all of them—or any of
them—will make it through the entire novel alive.
When
I’m having a bad day at black rock, the only escape is to write.
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