The Things We Leave Undone

I'm sitting here preparing to board another airplane, something I do with considerable frequency, and I find myself thinking about the nine people who died in a Learjet crash in Florida this past Sunday. The aircraft was flying from Austin, Texas, to the Bahamas when something went terribly wrong. The pilots had been dealing with weather, turbulence, and icing. Then, in a matter of moments, a seemingly manageable situation became an emergency.

I've listened to the recordings of the pilots communicating with air traffic control. They're difficult to hear. Not because of the technical details or the urgency in their voices, but because of the unmistakable realization that something terrible is happening and that they may not be able to stop it.

Novels I'm NOT Writing Right Now - Part 1

Sunset Perfect is the novel that refuses to be written. I've decided to give up on a novel. That's not an easy thing for a writer to admit, particularly when you've spent years working on it. And when I say years, I mean years. Hundreds of drafts. Different plots. Different characters. Different perspectives. More beginnings than I care to remember.

And after all that, I've come to a rather unpleasant conclusion. I don't think I want to write this book right now.