One of the small perks from writing a lot of sf/fantasy is… well, the scene is imaginary. Yes, there are exceptions, near future, Alt history.
Writing about a culture or place or people you know very little about is full of tricks and traps. Often, it’s little things which even
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
I think I must be a bowl of petunias and our local council Arthur Dent. They’ve been at me again. Friday afternoons seems their favorite
Or ‘It’s the absolute truth, we swear… we just left out a few details, context etc.’ Anyone who ever dealt with publishing is probably well
Ok, so real life is yanking my chain. I have one mysteriously dead vehicle (the frankencar, alas), a friend’s one I am trying to revive,