Life is crazy and irrational. That’s why I became a fiction writer. I wanted to experience some control in my life, and writing fiction requires total control.

1980 – 2000 I wrote and published a novel a year with traditional publishers. That’s a lot of control. Extremes become their opposites, and the discipline I knew in the 20th century I put aside in the 21st. For the next twenty years, I got in step with the march of time and let events carry me wherever — from the coal cliffs of Australia to the boreal forests of Sápmi. The pandemic ended that crazy, irrational life, and at age 70 I returned home to stay.

The extreme flipped once more during the process-work I undertook to make sense of what had happened to me on my travels. I began writing fiction again.

I’d forgotten how difficult the work is. To keep myself on track, I’ve refreshed my website and added a mailing list. If you’re curious to see how my latest creative enterprise develops and what comes of it, please join my mailing list.

Reporting occasionally to interested readers will (I’m hoping) keep me on track with this project, the fifth volume in The Perilous Order of Camelot, a series I began in the 1990s.

The new story takes place two hundred years after the fall of Camelot. Merlin has aged backward to an adolescent with diminished powers, and he’s forced to take on an apprentice to help him manage Lailoken, his demonic and exceedingly malign inner self.

I’m calling the novel Merlin and Nimuê: Gestes of Love, the Wyrd, and the Dark Hunt on Avalon. If you’d like to follow the journey, the mailing list is where the news lands first. I’d love to have you along.

“The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne, / Th’assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge, / The dredful joye…” — Geoffrey Chaucer, 1382, Parlement of Foules.