That gentle whispering you hear in the leaves. That gentle cry from a robin's nest. That sonorous hint from a distant road.
This is not the sound of me doing nothing.
Honest!
I'm getting into the planning and worldbuilding for the next novel. I've got a reasonably solid outline now and I'm figuring out how the seven worlds we visit in the story all work. It's all terribly complicated. I feel like I'm building humans from scratch, which requires some pretty amazing chemistry to avoid them all coming out like gloop.
So I'm just going to work quietly by myself for a while. I've got too much history to write. And it's far too much fun.
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