On Writing and Storytelling: Starting Over: The Chronicles and the Machine That Quit

Sunday, April 12, 2026, Orlando, Florida

Hi, there.

Central Florida is in one of its moods today—the kind where spring pretends it’s still in charge, but the sun and humidity have already staged a quiet coup. As I write this, the thermometer reads 78°F (26°C), but the humidity (a smug 52%) pushes the “feels like” temperature up to 84°F (29°C). An east wind at 9 MPH (15 Km/H) is technically present, though you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for a warm sigh from the atmosphere itself.

It’s the kind of day that reminds me of the early summers of my adolescence—those long, bright stretches where the heat settled in like an old friend who didn’t understand personal space.

And because life enjoys thematic consistency, yesterday my Lenovo IdeaCentre decided to give up the electronic ghost. No warning, no dramatic sparks, no cinematic smoke—just a quiet, stubborn refusal to turn back on. One moment it was my creative anchor; the next, it was a very modern paperweight.

Which means I’m now rebuilding The Jim Garraty Chronicles from scratch on my smaller Lenovo Ideapad laptop. Not impossible. Not ideal. Just one of those “never rains but it pours” plot beats that would feel too on‑the‑nose if I wrote it into fiction.

But here’s the thing: stories survive. Worlds survive. Characters survive. Sometimes the act of rebuilding forces you to see the architecture more clearly—the emotional physics, the connective tissue, the choices that matter and the ones that were just convenient.

So yes, I’m starting over. And yes, it’s frustrating. But there’s also something quietly energizing about it. A reset button I didn’t ask for, pressed by a machine that didn’t care, arriving at a moment when maybe—just maybe—I needed to look at the work with fresh eyes.

The Garratyverse isn’t going anywhere. Neither am I.

Thanks for reading, and for walking with me through the heat, the hiccups, and the rewrites.