There’s an old Yiddish saying that translates to: “Man plans, and God laughs.” Boyohboy, did the Writing Gods yuck it up at my expense.
FLASHBACK: Things were going swimmingly for me in September 2017. My new book Galloway’s Gamble had just been published by Western-historical fiction specialist Five Star Publishing, and (after four decades writing lots of Star Trek and other science fiction) my very first historical novel also won a Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award—a little icing on the cake.
When my Five Star editors asked for more stories about endearingly argumentative brothers Jamey and Jake Galloway, I thought I’d won the writer’s lottery! I’d stumbled into a new storytelling niche I loved. I was embarking on my very own novel series. And I believed I’d found a happy publishing home for the rest of my writing days.
But . . . “Man plans, and God laughs.”
Right around the time Galloway’s Gamble came out, I started having back problems that would keep me from sleeping for the next four years (which ain’t good for the brain). After twenty different medical practitioners, umpteen different drugs, and back surgery all failed to help; I’d lost four productive years and counting (although many people suffer far worse misfortune than I did).