Ah, the end of my overdraft. We meet again.
It’s been a while, no? But I remember you from when Helsreach was late. I remember you all too well, knave.
Although things are soon to be looking up finance-wise, we get to enjoy a thrilling dip back into that nebulous realm of being between paydays. Katie just left a job, and won’t get paid for her new one for a bit. And The First Heretic is late, meaning the only money I have is Republic Credits from my Star Wars: Episode I Monopoly. I plan to take several thousand of these to the big city tomorrow, and use them to pay for goods and services. Also, bounty hunters.
In honour of this wondrous moment of poverty-stricken and humiliating shame, I composed a haiku.
“End of overdraft.
Finish the novel fast, or
Die in a gutter.”
— Aaron Dembski-Bowden, 4:51am
It occurs to me that this isn’t an entirely accurate poem re: real life, because a) Instead of just rushing, I actually emailed my editor to say “It’s almost done, need a few more days”, and b) I’m physically incapable of speeding up. “I’ll totally do this one quick” soon became “Here’s Helsreach. Sorry it took 7 months, dude. How about that local sports team?”
Some people would call me unprofessional. Others, a perfectionist. Still others, a rugged, noble renegade on the frontiers of life, who stands tall and bears his teeth into the harsh northern winds.
These people are all correct.