The gig is up. ZOG knows where I am so it time to roll out of Weak Devil City.

I had hoped to finish two more fiction books, both short novels, in April. For once I get in that grove I can write about twice as much as when I split my efforts and a little more than when just doing non-fiction.

I did over 14,000 words in 32 hours last week, which I think is my best since writing most of Thunderbird in a weekend in early 2018.

Between arriving on the Bereft Coast on January 7 and finishing American Dream Boat on April 5 I completed the following works in progress:

-Seven Moons Deep, novel

-Confessor, novelette

I failed to Complete:

-The Spiral Case, novel

-American Spartacus, big fucking book

I also started and completed:

-Wonderboys and Knuckleheads, booklet

-Letters from the Fall, booklet

-Weak Devil, book

-Under an Iron Crown, novelette

-Book of Nightmares, novelette-length anthology

-American Dream Boat, novelette

I also started and failed to complete:

-Meat-Puppet Masquerade

8 out of 11 is satisfactory so I’m not going to punish myself.

I do, however, have to stop writing fiction for logistical reasons.

I have 4 books that I need to finish reading and write the reviews here, because I cannot haul them.

I have five books that I read on the way out here that I have yet to convert into 15 summation articles so that I can leave the books behind, all for American Spartacus and A Dread Grace.

So I have abruptly—aided by The Old One striking my mind from on high and putting me into three days of eye seizures—stopped writing fiction and have switched back to reading and writing history.

I’m leaving Big Tony with 7 big history books in exchange for 7 little paperbacks I am taking with me to read on the train. Logistically things are looking pretty doable. In the meantime I am canning articles, writing 2 for every one I publish, so that my first two weeks of knucklehead reunions and slave girl retraining seminars will not prevent me from posting. Although writing this on 4/11/19 I’ll post it on 4/27/19, the day before I leave.

Portland has been a fantastic place for writing. I’ve met a few inspirational readers and writers and most importantly, have not made a single friend [my cavorting with the local Bantu chieftain being purely anthropological in nature] and despite arriving with bronchitis, catching the flu and spending 8 days in fevered delirium, and being laid up with eye seizures for at least six days [hopefully they have ended as they tend to usher in a new season] my visit with Big Tony has been the most productive writing time of my live thus far.

Thanks, Man