I think the first time I did that was when my grandparents insisted that I was to eat a turkey drumstick at Thanksgiving dinner when I was in junior high school. I wasn’t prepared for the size of the thing or the thin bones hidden inside it. But, I finally ate the whole thing. In one meal. Before it got dark. And, food wise, that wasn’t to be the last time that happened.
This time, it’s the novel in progress which, if I don’t get my teeth sharpened up, could turn into a real turkey and that would tick off my understanding publisher. So, my apologies for the length of time that’s passing by since the release of my last book, Fate’s Arrows in 2020. Like a turkey drumstick to a guy used to fried chicken, Cornish game hens, and squabs, this book was supposed to be essentially a short novel or a long novella. But once I got into it, I realized that–as a continuation of the story in Fate’s Arrows–it was a lot longer and more complex than I expected.
If I were the kind of person who outlined novels, before I write them, I wouldn’t be telling you why Avenging Angels isn’t ready, or won’t be ready soon. But, I’m not the kind of person who outlines novels before I write them because I don’t know what’s going to happen or here things will go until I start writing them. I follow the stories like a blind man who doesn’t know the size of the drumstick on his plate.
As it turns out, the drumstick on my plate weighs nearly two pounds and comes from an Ostrich. What fresh hell is this? According to a 2016 story in the Chicago Tribune, “Thirty years ago, farmers and breeders flocked to the ostrich business, oversaturating it. But without consumer demand to match and a vulnerability to scams, the industry plummeted as quickly as it had prepared to take off.” Bottom line, nobody around here sells Ostrich meat. So, I had not reason to suspect that dark angels would put such a thing on my plate.
If Ostrich really tastes sort of like venison, I would like it. So I hope that when I finally get enough spare room inside my mouth to chew what I ended up with, I’ll make better progress with this book. And, when it comes out, I hope you’ll like it even thought it will probably be darker and grittier than Fate’s Arrows. Let’s face it, there’s no good way to write a light-hearted book about the KKK because it’s members in Florida where my novels are set were more cruel than Shortfin Mako Sharks and quite likely lived next door. Your friendly sheriff was probably a member.
So, I’m still here, still writing, and still hoping I’ll finish this drumstick in the near future.