As you would expect from the sort of unsavory mind that considers Predestination and Other Games of Chance a reasonable title for a science fiction espionage thriller, I haven’t had a terribly firm grip on reality lately. Not that this is a bad thing. Letting go of reality is the perfect way to immerse oneself in a new world, but more than that the notion makes great copy for a writer attempting to self-promote on a blog by adopting the public persona of a mildly psychotic evil genius.

The practical upshot of all this apparent psychosis is that Predestination is weaving itself an ever deepening web of deceit and intrigue, and the novel is now firmly moving under its own momentum. Current word length on the rewrite: 42,300 words.