God-damned fucking novel.

Can't you just get fucking written?

All journalists have novels sitting partly written in a drawer somewhere, or in some forgotten folder on a PC.

I'm no different. I've been trying to write and start a sci-fi novel for freaking years and the bloody thing keeps stalling. What a horrid beast.

I've had some ideas for years about what I want to write...and this one germinated from a seed of an idea from a dream I once had. But even that particularly cool premise has become merely a set-piece within a bigger story. And that whole bigger story I had wanted to tell....well that entire novel idea has now become a series of flashbacks that define the protagonist within the current novel plan. Like a literary Russian Doll, every time I have the novel mapped out I suddenly look and there's a bigger story to be told, and the current idea gets folded and kneaded into the uncooked dough of this newer story until I find the next bigger one.

I keep zooming out and out on this fucking fractal what-ifery going on in my head, which is why I keep trying to write the damn thing and get it started. My fear is it this keeps happening the novel is going to become Dellis' Anthology of Sci-Fi Shittery.

That is, save for the protagonist. He is a nasty motherfucker with few redeeming features and I love him so. Part Alfred Bester's Gully Foyle, part Richard Morgan's Takeshi Kovacs, and all kinetic violence. He's got the tools, he's got the death wish, and he's got one motherfucker of a grudge. He's got time on his hands, lots of time. People are going to get hurt. You better believe it.

Now if only I could write the god-damned cunting thing.

(Apologies for the swearing. The future's nasty. Cope with it.)