Well, I don’t expect to kick a ball around with it, teach it about the birds and the bees, or wipe its nose when it gets the sniffles. But I am now the proud writer of the first draft of a technothriller called Flashback. It clocks in (sorry; time travel gag) at 467 pages, and, just to show how hyowg it is, I’ve included an Avro-Lancastrian aircraft for a sense of scale. My watch is another time travel gag.
I was going to wait for an electrical storm over my castle in Ingolstadt, but then I thought, Pff.
The manuscript is chunky at the moment, but once I’ve put it through the sauna of the Hocking Editing Process (verb: to hep), that sucker will lose a quarter of its weight.
So, I give you — holds up the manuscript for the benediction of the last ray of sun, a la Simba in the Lion King — Flashback.
I’m reminded, of course, of Papa: “The first draft of anything is shit.” Wish me luck. I’m going in.