48 isn’t too late, right?

I am not an ambitious person, as it goes. I’ve always been of the opinion that above a certain baseline of “providing comfortably for my family” I’m content with whatever kind of work comes along. That’s partly because that I’ve always been lucky enough to achieve that doing stuff that wasn’t terrible, and often quite interesting. And now that I’m not only making it as a translator, but actually translating and working with stuff I genuinely enjoy, I really have no need to look for more.

But.

If you were to twist my arm, I have always had this tiny part of me that dreamed of being an author. (Yes, yes, I have a non-fiction book out, but that’s different. Don’t ask me how.) Ever since I was a kid. Sometimes it was fantasy, sometimes horror (even a short time when I toyed with noir crime fiction). Over the past couple of years, with the published translations I’ve got my name on, I’ve had a vicarious taste of what being that kind of author feels like. And I like it. I’m really proud of the work I’ve done on Strange Pictures and the other books, books that people really seem to like (By the way: Strange Buildings is coming in February 2026!). That has partially satiated the tiny little hungry writer part in my ego. Still, though, there is part of me that wonders if I couldn’t make my own stories that people enjoy.

And then the other day, literary agents Eric Hane and Laura Zats of the excellent Print Run publishing industry podcast announced their own take on the National Novel Writing month concept, with Zoom check ins and shared writing goals and… Well. It got me a bit hot and bothered. Because I’ve had ideas lately, and this seems like the time to poke them and see what comes out. Like a sign, if you will.

So. Here I am. Trying to write. An hour a weekday/five hours a week. More or less. I’m not good with tight structures. But I’m getting up momentum and soon inertia will keep me on it. I’m already a good 3,000 words in on my very first epistolary/fake documentary horror “novel” on top of a short story I wrote last month.

I also got my wife roped into a ghostly photo shoot TO GREAT EFFECT and that in itself inspired the shit out of me.

Jim the novelist, on his way. Hopefully I’ll finish this thing by the time I’m 50…