What is Charles Mathes writing these days?
Well, after trying out a few mystery ideas (my favorite was a girl who was a tree pruner until she fell out of an sycamore on her head and began to see fairies), I discovered that I was becoming derivative of myself ("this sounds like somebody trying to write a Charles Mathes book," was the way Arlene phrased it).
Then I played with a historical novel for a while, but Jim Fisk and Jay Gould wouldn't cooperate with my eleven-year-old three-fingered ragpicker character.
So now I'm retreating and regrouping.
In the meanwhile, the fish are biting.