Science Fiction

It occurs to me that I haven't talked about science fiction much.

I'm revising a long (130 page) novella, which I am going to submit to Aqueduct Press's chapbook series. It's a Lydia Duluth story that got out of hand and is too long for most markets.

I need to revise two other short stories, which are ordinary lengths. One of them is probably out of date now, since it's set in Iceland before this week's economic collapse.

Then I will be done with everything short except the Brer Rabbit story and can finally get back to work on the sequel to Ring of Swords.

I have averaged a little over 100 pages of publishable work a year during my writing career, whcih goes back to 1972 or 73. The fastest I ever wrote anything was Ring, which took 18 months. The slowest was A Woman of the Iron People. I got stalled in the middle. It took 13 years to complete.

This is too little for a successful science fiction writing career.

Could I have written more? I think so -- if I'd had more free time, and if I had been more driven or more disciplined. Though I wonder how much I have to say. I try to never write the same story twice. If I get into a story, and it seems overly familiar or seems to lack substance, I quit.