From both of us—and Dash, who is the sole surviving member of The Pack, as we called it when there were four of them, barking like they were seventeen and not four every time the doorbell rang.
Ok, it’s a day late, but still our best wishes to everyone who reads this blog and my books, or who just knows us from the good ol’ days, most of which, while good, are getting pretty damn ol’. 2026 is a significant year for us: Carol and I both graduated from grade school in 1966—sixty years ago!—and our fiftieth wedding anniversary falls on October 2 of this year. We’re planning two parties: one here in AZ and another back in Chicago, where all of our surviving family lives.
2026 is also the Semiquincentennial (half of 500, in other words) or maybe the Bisesquicentennial or Sestercentennial; take your choice. 250 years of protecting our rights as individual citizens of all categories from kings, arrogant royalty, ruling class slackers, dictators, and various other scum-of-the-earth species. Our nation has survived a long list of misleading and sometimes mass-murderous isms, and will continue to do so. This year we will celebrate our 250 years of victory.
Here at home, I’m deciding what major writing project to take on next. I have a little list, and a whole new concept sheet on The Molten Flesh, which tops that list. My unfinished novel Old Catholics predicts the first American pope…a cardinal from Chicago, yikes! I decided on that in 2005; if I publish it now, people won’t believe that I predicted it 20 years ago. So it will probably stay on the shelf. Beyond that…I’m still thinking. Any decisions will be announced here, so stay tuned.
Health issues prevented me from getting a great deal done in 2025, though I managed to get The Everything Machine into the Amazon gumball machine back in March. I rewrote and extended “Whale Meat,” and have two more finished works that I’m not entirely sure what to do with: “Morning Man” and “Volare!” I wrote the first draft of “Morning Man” back in 1985, and it’s about an AI who works as a DJ for a small-town radio station. That was science fiction back in 1985. I’m not sure what to call it today. “Volare!” heh, not sure what to call it, either. I started it in the late 1980s and abandoned it. Earlier this year I finished it. It’s a Simulation story, though that term did not exist in 1986. Once I can nail down a cover I intend to publish it as a standalone, 10,000-word novelette.
Beyond that, who knows? 2025 wasn’t all bad, and 2026 should be better. Hang around. It’s a beautiful world out there. Take in as much of it as you can, and celebrate your private triumphs. I’ll be here cheering you on!
