The “Still Not Dead (Yet)” Edition

Dear Reader, Fellow Seeker, or Innocent Bystander Who Forgot to Unsubscribe,

Well, after the world’s longest radio silence—my apologies for that, but I’ll get to the snot and melodrama shortly—I’m back to bother your inbox with actual news, personal confessions, and a dash of well-placed profanity.

Third one done

First, the bit that might impress even my harshest critics (hello, you-know-who): I’ve finished the first full draft of my third novel in one year, The Triumvirate Murders – Death as a Business Expense. Seventy-six thousand words. Yes, I counted them. Yes, I regretted every single one around word 47,000. Still, it’s alive, it’s kicking, and it’s probably the only thing I’ve produced this year that can’t be treated with antibiotics.

With the manuscript lurking menacingly on my hard drive, I’m now entering that most sacred of literary rituals: finding an editor. Not just for The Triumvirate Murders, but also for The Handful. If Dante were alive and drafting a new circle of hell, he’d reserve it for “Writers Seeking Editors.” It’s a process full of hope, dread, and the kind of email chains that make you yearn for carrier pigeons. If you know a good editor—preferably one with a sturdy liver and no fear of snark—send them my way. Payment in cash, books, or existential dread.

Snake oil sellers soar

Now, a brief word on Facebook, which has lately become the wild west of book promotion. Since finishing the draft, my inbox has been flooded by would-be book promoters. “Let me skyrocket your sales!” “Amazon #1 tomorrow!” “Only $500 for a post nobody will read!” Frankly, the stench of desperation from these ‘opportunities’ could knock a rat off a rubbish pile. If you’re reading this and thinking of messaging me your package deal: don’t. Unless your promo package comes with a free house in Tuscany, I’m out.

Still alive (nearly)

As for my prolonged absence: shortly after finishing the manuscript, I succumbed to the sort of winter cold that would have impressed a 19th-century Russian novelist. I have spent the past two weeks horizontal, feverish, and grumpy, barely able to distinguish daylight from Netflix. Today is the first day I can actually see colours again—a small, miraculous mercy. (To those who sent emails: if you got a reply, blame the Panadol.)

I hope you’ve managed to avoid my fate—may your immune systems be strong and your summers unblemished by heat waves, wildfires, or book promoter spam. If you’re in the southern hemisphere, apologies for mentioning summer at all. I wish you thick socks and merciful tea.

One more thing

I redesigned my logo. What do you think about this:

Take care, stay mischievous, and, above all, keep reading.

With affection and irreverence,
Janus