One of my many parallel projects while working on the next novel is to stay sane. And as the novel-to-be decides to have opinions of its own, and the #sadpuppies debate threatens to distract me at every turn, sanity turns out to be a precious and precarious thing.
Hence: short stories.
To break up the long stretches of novel-length marches, sprints, and trudges, I write (or finish up) various short stories. It’s that or another rerun of Firefly*.
And indulging in shorter stories also means that I can play with covers, which always is a little too much fun and keeps me up far too late.
My most recent semi-coherent effort is a novelette about the love of travel, as experienced in more than one way. Expect a hunt, lots of dialogue, and (non-delayed) flights of fantasy.