Not really. More like Dis. Tracted. From The Ship Finding God.
My editor at Rebel E Publishers, affectionately known as Jayne the Impaler, is in the midst of whipping Tu’an into shape. We had quite the lively discussion about the Britanization of certain words. See, I think that certain words should retain their Brit spelling: armour, smoulder, etc., you know, that quite unnecessary “u.” Seems to me that it conveys the better sense of the word. I mean, armour is a tank; armor is a dog food company. But she, being an editor, demands consistency. The nerve.
Anyways, Tu’an is coming along nicely because Jayne is, well, good. For example, she pushed me to add a little teaser at the end to give the two or three of you reading the series a bit of a come-on. So I did. No, it’s not the first chapter of the third book of the trilogy, which shall be named Colm, but something…else. You’ll see. That is, if Jayne lets it pass.
Not that Ship Finding has been lying around eating cold pizza or anything. We’re up to 65,000 words now, and I’m still projecting about 75,000 to 85,000 to finish it. Maybe 95,000, ’cause there’s some things happening. Like the Suits showing back up. Couldn’t just leave those guys circling the dark world, now could I?