just blasted through the 60,000 words mark and the issue of the 'ninety billion souls' (first mentioned in chapter one by Asalah Al Faghori has finally reared its gorgeous bonnet). There's a whole 'raison d'etre' moment just happened, a reason why - and it's going to revolutionise.... yawn .... oh, sorry, where was I?
This FREE PLANET novel is taking off in multi-directions I'd never considered when organising the dual-narrative structure even as recently as the start of the new year. It's moved on in leaps and bounds, of an extra-dimensional nature. And the whole universe is watching the resolution from a distant proximity and what seems far is near and what seems ancient is just about to happen. Imagine a pair of gnarly and wretched old hands choking to death a delicate young bloom, but somehow the bloom is resisting the pressure, fighting back against its compression.
It's a novel about cycles of chaaange, it's one of the most liberating things I've ever written.
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