I'm really not that interesting.

Oh great, now I feel pressured to say something witty and fine, which will pretty much guarantee that it will be dull as dirt.

I'm in a bit of a lull right now. I have a short story due to come out in September, and one that I kind of cowrote with Anna J. Linden coming out at the same time. (She did most of the work, I just sat back and ate peeled grapes and occasionally wrote a bit when I felt like it. She's a saint.) After that, I don't have anything contracted just yet. Frighteningly, I don't have anything finished, or even close to finished. There's been interest in a few ideas I've pitched to my publishers, the trick is going to be writing them. I have this problem with my attention span, see, and I've got about thirty files in my "In Progress" folder at various stages of incompletion. It's all a matter of which plot hole I can fix first, or which characters finally ignite their chemistry and sweep me away. I seriously wish I were more a disciplined writer, but I'm one of those "inspiration/discovery" writers. I can't stand writing something that's dry and difficult and will only have to be deleted later when I figure out I've done it wrong.

But if all goes well, there should be a sequel to Every Good Thing being worked on, and also an anthology of historical short stories that I'm excited about getting started. I cut my teeth on 100-word drabbles and six-word stories, and was well-known for my vignettes in my non-professional writing, so this novel-writing business is exhausting for me. I'm looking forward to indulging myself with several short stories.