I expected to be writing as of the end of May or so, after some other things have been swept out of the way, but here we are. It wasn't much — only 1500 words so far — but enough to establish a tone-of-a-sort, a point-of-view-of-a-sort. Enough to open the door and peek though.
There's still a great deal that hasn't been nailed down. The last fifth or so of the story is still a dog's breakfast (and possibly also lunch and dinner), but only in the sense that the mechanical details aren't yet established. The tone of that ending, and the meaning of it, are unchanged; I just have to figure out exactly how to put the arrow on the bowstring and let it fly. But I've started, and once again, I am headed in a totally different direction.
Some immediate connections between this and previous works stand out. For one, it's another New York City story (can't ever quite get that pavement out from under my feet); for another, it's got the same "if there is no world for you, make it yourself" vibe that Vajra, Fold, Summerworld, and even The Four-Day Weekend all had. But other than that, it's deliberately dissimilar in, I hope, all the ways that matter.