I have an admission to make.
My first novel opened with the scene of a sort of “perfect fall day” on Mars.
That’s right. I had oak tree’s and grass on Mars. It was that bad
The other night I had the idea of seeing if I could rescue that story in a like 2,000 word space opera with a sort of “the bad guys always get away, but at least we’ll always have each other,” kind of piece.
Only without the trees this time.