S.L.Luck

April 26, 2020

Well. Here we are on our umpteenth day of isolation. It’s a bit lonely but overall not too bad. We’re still healthy, if not a bit fluffy around the waist, and content with our buffet of Netflix, Crave, Prime, Disney+ and the wormhole that is the internet.

I’m thinking I have a slight problem, or not. I sent my last book out to an editor during the middle of February, before the pandemic really hit North America. Until this point, communication was quite frequent. I sent the manuscript over, along with a deposit for half the amount and communication was still quite frequent for a few weeks. No problem there. Then, around late March, the communication stopped. Completely. There were no emails to me but also no social media posts on the editor’s other social media channels. My first thought was that I had been stiffed. My second was concern for a person I know is vulnerable and might have gotten sick. The latter part is now where my anxiety lies. I’m now at a loss for what to do. I’m also even more hesitant to send my work out again. So…what to do…what do do? My editor is MIA but I still have to move forward. I had an August launch in mind, but now I’m thinking I’ll have to push this back. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I’ve surprised myself. I started writing a new novel and I’m shocked at how easy this one is so far. This one would be considered a thriller/suspense/potential horror. The story of how it came about is crazy. I was in a second-hand shop looking at books when an older man said, “That book might be haunted.” This started a conversation where the stranger told me that there was a church in his hometown that burnt down and his grandmother told him that anything from that church was haunted so she wouldn’t allow books or anything from the church inside her house. The stranger went on to tell me that his uncle (the grandmother’s son) had set the fire to the church because he impregnated a nun and didn’t want anyone to know. The stranger told me that a few people died in the fire but that no one ever knew his uncle set the fire. We talked some more and he gave me his email address. Then the stranger vanished, and an email to his address came back undeliverable. Strange. Weird. People tell me things all the time. Strangers divulge. And I listen.

Thanks for staying with me, fellow Readers. Stay tuned…