We come now to that most auspicious of numbers, 42 (see note below). To my surprise, Panamanian Idol has climbed up to 17,000 words—I thought it was much shorter than that, and in all honesty, it probably should be. When I go through it again, I expect there’ll be some paring down. That said, this entry brings us firmly into the endgame. Things are coming to a head at last.
In other news, I’m relearning all the calculus I’ve ever known, then adding some more on top. The Star-Studded Black, the next entry in the Exile War series, is coming soon, and space navigation is, unfortunately, all differential equations of the most pernicious sort. Such is the struggle of the sci-fi author.
Morning edit: it turns out that I accidentally called this ’42’ when it is, in fact, ’43’. A slightly less auspicious number, but such is life.
Thursday edit: it turns out I was incorrect, and the post previously called ’43’ was, in fact, a repost of 42. I’ve moved this commentary back to 42, and posted the correct 43.