For quite a long, long while now, I’ve been writing, re-writing, editing, re-writing my novel Reckless Joy. 

The story originated as Spectacular Grit, an original teleplay for a proposed series. 

In the teleplay, Jenny’s an assistant district attorney who’s forced to manage her deadbeat, estranged father’s finances:

JENNY
What happens if I refuse to look after him?

CARLOS
Thanks a lot, daughter. I’m still in the room.

STEVE
The trust will prevail, Jenny. The court will force you to fulfill the terms of your mother’s trust. But, we’re not finished. There’s one more trust Alma created.

Steve hands out more documents.

Jenny reads quickly.

Carlos sits quietly, pretending to read. He glances sideways at Jenny to catch her reaction to what's coming.

JENNY

I don’t understand any of this.

STEVE

She’s left you—

JENNY

—a horse—

CARLOS

—a thoroughbred race horse.

The script made the top 20 in at least one prestigious screenwriting competition, but ultimately the teleplay went nowhere.

Meanwhile, the heart and soul of the story wouldn’t let me go. It demanded an outlet, and so the novel was born.

The story has evolved far from the original characters and premise. A novel is a very different entity from a script of any kind. 

There’s still an estranged father-daughter relationship, and with a title such as Reckless Joy, you can expect a horse.

There's still time to request a postcard if you'd like one. No matter where you are in the world, as long as I can drop the card in a mailbox, you'll get one.

If you'd like a postcard, drop me an email with your snail mail address. I can't guarantee you'll receive my senryu, but it will be a postcard poem from the Pandemic Postcard Project addressed to you by me. I'll send them until the postcards are all gone.

Stay safe, and stay kind and curious about the world, my friends! Thank you for reading.