I’ve been digging up some old stories. It turns out I still have some that were hiding from me. They were probably written during a strange period of my life where I can’t remember much. Well, it’s not that I can’t remember— I remembered the stories. But they were disconnected psychically from other parts of life. So today I’ve been working on an old story about an old, crazy idea.
Heinlein’s Rules dictate basically that you should pretty much publish everything you write and finish. That doesn’t mean you have to practice necromancy on your whole backlog, I suppose… but it kind of does, doesn’t it?
I used to be habitually very upset about how I had exactly zero works that I would want to show to people, and though I’m not exactly doing cartwheels about absolutely everything I write as far as other people’s reactions go, I really like how it feels to be a guy who has so far published seventy-three short stories and a few novels. So it’s worth it to me to dig up those old stories.