Sometimes i have an itch to write, but the question is always – what? Usually that’s in a whirlpool of ideas that all get swallowed. Usually, that’s accelerating hard in a dead-end alley. But i recall – i do like writing. I very much enjoy the process of creating stories and even the tumultations of publishing. Editing is intentionally left out of things i like because i don’t.

I know – i know: Everyone assumes that statement’s an admission i don’t edit – and, i don’t much, anymore.

In the days of yore i’d joke half my story came through the editing process. I like to think i’ve become a better writer, but i probably haven’t. However, now, less than 1% of my stories arrive through the editing process. Mostly, I try to find typos, continuity errors, and poorly how i phrased the words togetherness.

But i’d been reading a lot, and i’d been feeling the urge to write something, but everything i started pondering over crossed the event horizon. How this one managed to skim off into space i do not remember.

I’d tried jumping off 1056 with a story that’s been in thoughts since shortly after that was written. I considered several angles to take with it and even sketched some notes. But like every other time i’ve considered it – i didn’t. I think it’s finally time to put that idea six feet under.

It’s dour…

So, I thought – again, as i have so many times before – how ’bout a hop back to the first story i ever wrote just for kicks. Just for fun. I thought, how about finally jumping off with another installment of Reach for the Stars. I did that once before and there’ve been plenty of thoughts towards it, since. But there’s also some clutter in that drawer.

The last time, I jumped off and i think the first couple of the second – trilogy-ish – worked out okay. But the last installment of that arc never happened. Just like with 1056, it got too too slimy. But after some time had passed, i considered re-setting with the same characters, but in a very Vella friendly format: As in, weekly, short-story installments.

That nearly launched. I had an angle and many ideas were collected to make that happen, and then it was announced that Vella was being murdered.

Down the hole goes another idea.

But i considered going back, and i had a story that was – it’s more of the same for that universe – interesting. I considered it, plotted it, was ready to go – but, it’s been a minute. I don’t remember the hierarchies. I don’t remember all the aliens. I don’t (now i do) remember the protagonist’s name from that second iteration. However – that’s where some of the heights finds influence. I just don’t know how it went from a captain in semi-exile stuck at remote trade outpost to a clerk in a satellite office of the U.S. Department of health. But that’s were i wound up.

This was one of those stories that was never going to be a long story. It’s sort of like Comatose – idea arrived, i knew where it was going, and it was never getting particularly complicated.

Not nuanced, thoughtful; reflective.

I had a story and i really wanted to write – tickled me, it did: Hilarious. And also, the perfect time of year. I don’t know how the idea for this evolved to where it did, but it did very quickly. The story arrived, and maybe within a day I’d started writing.

Windrose Heights, people: Do not feed your children vegetables.

Is it possible – vegetables are bad for children?
A routine analysis of public health data flagged a potential issue in a small, suburban community. The initial review dismissed concerns due to the sample size and numbers that were typical of current trends. However, outcry from the location led to the deployment of a representative to investigate further.
That person was Shelley Quinn, and when she arrived, she quickly found the problem was real and caused by an unexpected source.
Can she convince anyone that vegetables are responsible?
And, will she find out why – in time.
A brisk adventure from the heart of America – steeped with mystery.