We seem to exist in a sort of circularity. Once travel was hard and to be dreaded. Then things got easier and better… and then they got to cattle-car-class and crotch fondlers and be there 2 hours before a 40 minute flight. Ok, so I am kidding, flying still means covering distances at speeds and comfort undreamed of by the poor guy who faced a muddy track with a sack on his back. Travel is much easier, and we go further, faster than most of travel for all of human existence.
I mention this because I am about to spend a few days on airplanes, a journey that will have started by the time this goes up. I am going to England to visit my son and daughter-in-law. It’s been too many years since I last saw them, and looking into the dark glass of the future, may be many years, if ever, before I see them again. I’ll write while I can, but laptops only last so long. So: I have a load of homework reading to do, and a little pleasure reading (I have promised two contributions to anthologies and need to read up on the background, and a few novels I need to read more background for, to get place and tone).
A writer’s work is never done, I guess. All grist for the mill – a couple of books are now going to be set in the UK.
OK, got to pack – next you will hear from me will stuck in the endless queue to see the Queen’s remains, which we joined by accident thinking it was baggage collection.