I’ve been working through another edit of Blanc Noir. With it’s modern social themes and satirical character names (Koch, Boehner, Limbaugh), I think it could win an audience. More importantly, I think it could motivate people to make society better.
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At conventions, I’ve heard Kevin J. Anderson tell how he built up with credibility as a writer/editor. When offered a project, he would always respond by saying, “I can do that.”
There’s no refusal in this method. It doesn’t matter how busy Anderson might be, his response is always the same. Why? He doesn’t have a guarantee that he’ll be asked again, nor does he have a guarantee of another offer coming in the near future.
Every writer who tries to climb the path of traditional publishing has to reach out to others. In my case, this comes in the query letters I send several times a week. We hope something will come from this effort, even though most of the time there is only rejection.
For years, I’ve loved drawing. I started by copying and altering imaged from comic books, then moved onto making my own images and characters. In all that time, I’ve toyed with doing some art on a professional basis.
Now, it looks like I might be able to make something of that.
Remember, remember the Fifth of November
Gunpowder treason and plot.
I know of no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
A growing tradition in recent years has been for many who worry about tyranny to watch V For Vendetta on November Fifth. It’s something of a fad, but many have taken it as a time to look into their rights. I’ve had an annual viewing for a few years, but this year, I’ve held off.
Yes, I love movies. I absolutely love Christopher Nolan movies.
There’s a point early in his new movie, Interstellar, that establishes the desperate status of the world and the intelligence of the main character’s daughter. While this isn’t much of a spoiler, I want to give an opportunity to turn back before I say more.
Many of you who read my words get an email, rather than a simple link through social media. Even though my posts may go to your main mail folder or your spam, you’re still getting them.
I’m posting today for all 142 of you. That’s how many people were following this blog when I last looked.
Something I’ve said in the past has drawn your curiosity enough where you want to stay informed. I’ve remarked on a topic you liked, professed an opinion you agree with, or shared my passions in a way that inspired you. Whatever the reason might be, thank you for taking the time to see my words.
It’s important for a writer to know someone will see what they have written, if only to know their thoughts aren’t dwelling in pure silence.
So thank you for making sure my thoughts don’t just exist in a vacuum.
I just posted the following on reddit and thought it summed up why I haven’t posted here recently. I would say “Enjoy,” buy I don’t enjoy being so drained.
I have plenty of things I could write about. Short stories I could work on, novels to edit, notes to make on worldbuilding and characters. I have a blog that’s been neglected for a week and a half.
I haven’t done any creative writing in four days. I didn’t get a lot done then.
Some of why I haven’t written is that I work long shifts. Ten hours on overtime days, twelve hours otherwise. Today is the third day of six in a row.
When I get home, I wash up, eat, then fall asleep. Falling asleep might come as a ten minute nap, but it lasts for an extra hour past that.
I’d be happy to write even a hundred words a day, if only because progress is progress. Right now, I’ve been so depleted, I’m not sure what to do.
I’ll find my motivation again. I’m not sure how, but it will come. I have enough thoughts circling in my head that something is going to demand my attention. When that happens, things will get better for me.
In 1997, I started college. Living away from home for the first time was a game-changer. As much as I enjoyed the time I spent with my new friends and neighbors, I wasn’t able to socialize all the time. That’s why I spent some time in the dorm computer lab, essentially a closet with a pair of ancient computers. Over the course of that year, I wrote a novel called Life Is Pain.
Eventually, I went to revise the novel, since I liked the story. My only copies were on 3.25″ disks and my computer died, leaving me without a way to look at the old version.
It was a scorched earth scenario.