The process can feel like a rewrite—
a better-edited version of the past.
But who would read it?
Time is precious and fleeting, especially lately.
They say memory is unreliable.
How many people will forget these last several years?
Some say to start with an outline.
Others say to write immediately, while it’s fresh, while the anger still burns.
And over the years, I have been very angry.
But now it is late spring, and I have a remarkable story to tell—one filled with strange adventures and unforgettable characters: Katya M. Cartouche, a black cat; Tiki, an eight-foot wooden yet mobile Indonesian tiki; Gina, beautiful and innocent despite adulthood; and Anthony—the Roman with the hooded beak—from Naples. There is also a dead ex-husband and a time machine.
Tony used to tell Gina that no one is truly good.
He said it often.
What he meant was that no one is entirely bad, and no one is entirely good.
People are complicated, unpredictable creatures.
For Gina, letting go of the safety net felt like jumping from a perfectly reliable airplane. The first step was the hardest. After that, she simply had to trust that the parachute strapped to her back would open and carry her safely down.
It did.
And the book clamoring to be written could become a bestseller in some universe willing to accept the truth as Katya and Gina understand it.
Right now, though, they are knee-deep in the swamp, while the ticks cling on for dear life.
…
And soon, all the masks will come off.
Corney Press 