The problem with going away is the distance that mushrooms up between me and the created peoples of story and place.  This trip a series of circumstances put me in a store that sold a little bit of everything and a very few books and one of those books was The Circus in Winter by Cathy Day, published in 2004.  This book [yeah, like I need another book like I need another hole in my head] dealt with the lives of performers between 1884 and 1939 — and the book I had been working on about Irene, the human cannonball great-aunt of an old friend of mine, dealt with an investigation into the death and times of Irene, who happened to have lived from 1899 until 1936.  I had to buy the book.  Then, I had to read the book along the coastal route coming home.  I had to read it so as to escape from trying to figure out how life can seem so incredibly callous and unfair when it is just “life” being life, in this instance, skidding away before even beginning. 

Now, back home again, I find myself wanting to work, or should I say “re-work” the Irene story.  I find the science fiction Perera and Crownreba and the people crowded inside the living body of our female lead and our bad guy, harry - - - a bit too distant and far away from my imagination right now.  I am hoping I will fall back into their Circle, their Dalan World, again soon.  But . . .

I’ll use this private “blog” to post reworked chapters of my Irene Project.  Please, don’t feel obligated to read any of my postings.  On the other hand, I’d love it if you did and told me what worked and what failed.