I'll do just about anything not to write. Essays I write are about avoiding writing. It's National Novel Writing Month. Got a good start with a terrific idea, whizzed through day one. Then nothing. I lit the writing lamp. Drank tea. More tea. Sharpened pencils, dusted the desk, lit candles, got out a new notebook, cleaned the bathroom, washed kitchen walls, changed out the wreath on the front door. Made two dinners one nght, so I could write through dinner the next. Today I had to costume. The novel I'm not writing is Stellar Repo, a space noir scifi adventure, loosely based on my stint as aircraft collection manager for MNB. I had no idea what I was in for, but my learning curve was hilarious. Repossessing aircraft. Friends suggested I write those stories. Young Emmett, my friends' TV show producer said, do it in space. Space noir. Princess Leia as Sam Spade. Noir requires a black fedora. Check. Cigarette. check. Scruffy beard shadow. Check. Sunglasses, ditto. The sigreet is a rolled 3x5 card, set on fire. I had to draw the smoke with a dry media Photoshop brush, smudged. The stubble was a burnt cork, just like Dad used to do when we were kids, and it rained every Halloween, forcing us to go trick or treating in our raincoats and Junior Fire Marshall hats as smoky firemen. Space noir. Next up: the cover of Stellar Repo. And an excerpt.