Here’s the thing. At some point in your life you realize (well, I have anyway) that five years from now is going to come no matter what you do. Five years from now exists — it really does. It’s there and I’m here, but eventually I will be there, five years older with a slightly (or maybe more than slightly) different perspective. I can’t stop it. It’s as inexorable as 27,000 years from now. Both will one day be the present.
That’s why I must write now. Five years ago I was writing, but not with any kind of consistency. Now I have little to show for it, save a few short stories that make all my friends and family say, “hey, you really should do something with that.”
Anyway, I’m just on the cusp of 83K words in the YA novel. Wish me luck, Void.
— david j.