I don't know how much I can do this.
We knew cancer treatment would be tough. We knew there would be bad days. But the bad days are starting to run together into bad weeks.
We spent most of yesterday in the hospital, and today looks like another hospital day.
Sara has lost about 10% of her body weight in a few days.
I've written a lot about George Martin, and his failure to deliver, and I think his great offense wasn't just the delays, it was the dishonesty.
So I'm going to be honest with you.
I think the sequel to Theft of Fire is going to be late.
I make little bits of progress here and there, when I can. When there's a good day. But really finishing a story with the detail, complexity, nuance, and intricacy of another Theft of Fire, requires not just time to write words on a page, but sustained concentration and creative flow.
And this is very hard to come by right now.
I get a thousand words here, an idea there... I move the needle. But it's not fast. It's not full time writer fast. It's not a sustained, disciplined program of butt-on-seat-fingers-on-keyboard.
It's not the way I tell other, aspiring writers how to work.
I can't.
I'm sorry.
This may be hard to understand when I still write stuff on here, and on my subscription site. I'll explain. An article is a small, self-contained thing, wrapped around a single idea. 1000-2000 words to express one central thought, and I'm done.
They don't have to mesh with 10s or 100s of other ideas, and 150,000 other words to form a fulfilling story.
I'm a science fiction writer, not an internet pundit, by nature. And my long term plan, my make-the-A-list plan, cannot be fueled by internet punditry alone.
But I can't focus the way a novel requires. And I need income. Sara's on disability pay, and Christine has to take care of her and can't work. So articles, while they don't advance towards my real goals, at least pay me some money now.
And leave me with some time and focus to care for my sick wife.
I haven't stopped. When there's a good day, here and there, I make a burst of progress, usually.
But I can't make any promises. And I don't want my audience to think I can, then feel betrayed when I can't deliver.
I will finish. I will. I will deliver all four books. Doesn't matter if I'm obligated to or not. I choose to. I choose this.
I just can't tell you when.
I'm sorry.