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Showing posts from 2015

Second Annual Last Post of the Year

So I just re-read my end of the year post for 2014, in which I laid out four modest goals for the upcoming year: 1. Find a home for Antiartists : COMPLETE The book will be published by Pen Name Publishing Spring 2016   2. Develop a network of writers and readers : COMPLETE (ongoing) From my publisher, Dionne, my new writer buddies Scott Thompson, Lev Butts, and Mike Hansen, my Twitter pals Tim and Salome' from Ghostwood Books, and all of you that check this thing out on a regular basis, a massive thank you is in order.  My regular readership for this blog has more than doubled in the last year, from a very (VERY) modest number to a slightly higher very modest number.  You can help by sharing this with others if you like it, by liking my stuff on Facebook, by following me on Twitter.  I'm literally counting on you for my success.  Spread the word.    3. Finish the new novel, Flagg : COMPLETE With a ridiculous amount of support (and incredible editing) from my brilliant wife, She

Second Annual Last Post of the Year

So I just re-read my end of the year post for 2014, in which I laid out four modest goals for the upcoming year: 1. Find a home for Antiartists : COMPLETE The book will be published by Pen Name Publishing Spring 2016   2. Develop a network of writers and readers : COMPLETE (ongoing) From my publisher, Dionne, my new writer buddies Scott Thompson, Lev Butts, and Mike Hansen, my Twitter pals Tim and Salome' from Ghostwood Books, and all of you that check this thing out on a regular basis, a massive thank you is in order.  My regular readership for this blog has more than doubled in the last year, from a very (VERY) modest number to a slightly higher very modest number.  You can help by sharing this with others if you like it, by liking my stuff on Facebook, by following me on Twitter.  I'm literally counting on you for my success.  Spread the word.    3. Finish the new novel, Flagg : COMPLETE With a ridiculous amount of support (and incredible editing) from my brilliant

Finishing the Job

So you're in the shower, feeling the warm wash splash over you. You allow yourself to relax a bit, let the heat and the water wash off the psychic bruises of the day, the low grade filth that sticks to your skin after a day in this world. You stand there in the steam and you get an idea . It is vague, right, a vapor cloud, a ghost, but it happens, you see it in your head and it starts to form, take a more solid shape, take on more structure, it becomes a skeleton, a frame on which to hang other ideas, things that have been bouncing around your head for a while now, bouncing because they had nowhere to stick, but now they do, and the idea takes a place in your world.  It has become real. This is it. This is the thing that will be your breakout. This is your Golden Ticket. You jump out of the shower, you gotta get started on it right now, this very moment, before the idea fades, before you can talk yourself out of it, find reasons to not even start, to not even try.  This is the firs

Finishing the Job

So you're in the shower, feeling the warm wash splash over you. You allow yourself to relax a bit, let the heat and the water wash off the psychic bruises of the day, the low grade filth that sticks to your skin after a day in this world. You stand there in the steam and you get an idea . It is vague, right, a vapor cloud, a ghost, but it happens, you see it in your head and it starts to form, take a more solid shape, take on more structure, it becomes a skeleton, a frame on which to hang other ideas, things that have been bouncing around your head for a while now, bouncing because they had nowhere to stick, but now they do, and the idea takes a place in your world.  It has become real. This is it. This is the thing that will be your breakout. This is your Golden Ticket. You jump out of the shower, you gotta get started on it right now, this very moment, before the idea fades, before you can talk yourself out of it, find reasons to not even start, to not even try. 

Heat

This came from another of those one-word story prompts that my publisher did for the year.  The word for August was "heat."  --------------- Heat What he remembers most is her heat. She would get up for work before he did because she had a longer commute.   He would feel her get up, get out of bed, hear her start the shower, and because he could, he stayed in bed for an extra half-hour longer than her.   He would slide his hand through the sheets, under the blankets and feel for her warmth still radiating from where she had been sleeping.   She would come back, lean in, her hair still wet, her skin hot and flushed from the shower, kiss him goodbye.   They wouldn’t see each other again until the evening, and sometimes that seemed hard, being away from her all day, and feeling her warm place in bed was a way to have her close for just a little while longer. He sits now, looking out the sliding glass door, his eyes roaming over the backyard.   It snowed last night while he slep

Heat

This came from another of those one-word story prompts that my publisher did for the year.  The word for August was "heat."  --------------- Heat What he remembers most is her heat. She would get up for work before he did because she had a longer commute.   He would feel her get up, get out of bed, hear her start the shower, and because he could, he stayed in bed for an extra half-hour longer than her.   He would slide his hand through the sheets, under the blankets and feel for her warmth still radiating from where she had been sleeping.   She would come back, lean in, her hair still wet, her skin hot and flushed from the shower, kiss him goodbye.   They wouldn’t see each other again until the evening, and sometimes that seemed hard, being away from her all day, and feeling her warm place in bed was a way to have her close for just a little while longer. He sits now, looking out the sliding glass door, his eyes roaming over the backyard.   It snowed last