Oh, bother.

This coming Thursday, September 30, will be my last day at a job I have held for over twenty-one years. My lay-off has nothing to do with peak oil, but it is still traumatic. Overwhelmingly so. I’m in the process of getting set up to work at home, and my new full-time job is “writer”. (It has been my part-time position up until now.) So, if there’s a slight lag in my blog entries here, please forgive me. If you're really missing me, you might check out my upcoming media schedule because...

In better news, Peak of the Devil will be officially released the following day, this Friday, October First. 10/01/10. Wow. I can’t wait to see how it does and how it is received once it’s out there. And of course I’ll read the reviews on Amazon. (So please be kind.) Is this the right book for the right time? I really do think so. Oil is in the news more and more, and more people are starting to understand that there’s more to the problem than just a spill or two. The big picture is grim, and getting worse. Welcome to the peak of that devil.

As of this morning, I have three more days in my old job. It’s weird. The office vultures have already started to circle, checking out our desks and chairs and stuff — to see what they want to grab before the seat cushions cool off. My cubicle, once festooned with bicycle posters as well as bicycles, is absolutely bare. Most of the drawers are empty. I could, right now, pick up three things, walk out the door and never look back. Except, I have to say, I really liked this job. I understand where Lot’s wife was coming from. I will look back.

With my new job as writer, I will most certainly have more time to write. I’ve another non-fiction book I’d like to write this winter, and ideas for a couple of novels I’d be delighted to beat out of a willing keyboard. If my new full-time job is writer, my new part-time job is going to be “find an agent for my fiction.” If there’s anyone out there that wants to be my fiction agent, drop me a line and we’ll talk. I have finished two novels, a stage play with 17 original songs, and a short story (about peak oil!) that knocked ‘em dead in Maine a few years ago. And, of course, I want to write more. But I need an agent for my fiction. Anyone? Anyone?

Let’s end this on the most incredible high note possible: Last week I received a hand-written note from Harper Lee. That, to me, is like having God show up at your birthday party to give you a puppy. Whew.