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The Rotundo World Tour

2018

ConStellation 9
Lincoln, NE
April 20-22

WorldCon 76
San Jose, CA
August 16-20

Watch this space for updates!

Progress Report, in which I drag my sorry carcass home

Been in Minneapolis, visiting family, since last Thursday.  Just got back a few hours ago, and I’m beat.  Whipped.  What I’m sayin’ here, I’m dog tired.  So this is gonna be short.

Before departing for the Cities, I managed to cut another 1,000 words from “The Multiplicity Has Arrived.”  This made me quite happy.  I also tweaked a few spots, including the ending. 

While up North, I managed to do another read-through of “Gone Black,” and took another look at

‘s scathing but dead-on critique of it.  He’s right; the damned thing is still way too long.  Much of the first 5K words is still just laborious set up; nothing happens in these opening pages.  Most of this is stuff I think I needed to know in order to write the story, but to readers, it’s just dead time.  So out it goes. 

I’m still not sure quite how to fix the ending. 

had some solid suggestions for it, but I hesitate, largely because of some similarity it would then have to another work of mine.  So I’m wavering there.  But I’ll work it out.

One update for Write Club:  Heliotrope bounced “What Really Happened That Night” with a tier one rejection.  Response time, six days.

The Cities was a fab time, by the way.  Big do at Big Sis’s house, to celebrate a nephew’s graduation (congrats again, Joe!).  Also visited Duluth and the fabled North Shore, including Split Rock.  Many years ago, the wife had done a spectacular painting of the lighthouse based on a picture in a calendar.  Finally, she and I got to see it In The Flesh.  Surrounded by all sorts of mega-cool fog.  Wonderfully surreal.  Also went golfing for the first time in my life (it’s official:  I’m getting old) and went on a roller coaster–well, several of them, actually–for the first time in nearly twenty years (so maybe I’m not as old as all that, not yet).  My only regret was that I couldn’t get to

‘s reading, as I’d hoped.  Really wanted to be there, Dave.  But I was a hundred and fifty miles away at the time, out on the fabled Highway 61.

In all, a whirlwind trip.  Did I mention I was exhausted?

Right.  I’m outta here.

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