Have to admit I am a wee bit disappointed. There was no change in the virus, yet they reopened. I could rant, but naw. I had friend once when I was a wee lad, used to always dare me to do things that I knew would kill or maim me. I was fooled once, almost lost some fingers over it. It only took one time for me to learn the 'Speeding Bus' theory. Yeah, you could step out in front of it, but... I suspect the same applies to a 'speeding virus' So, there are these people called scientists--we should start listening to them...
Just a quick note, I am giving away 10 Kindle copies of When Walls Fall Down at Good Reads. Check it out and sign up to win. Expires June 5th.
What can I tell you? I feel bad for people who don't write. Everybody endeavoring to fill their time with exercise, crafts, puzzles. Of course I have to recommend reading. Books take you away. So, if your not writing them, you should be reading them! The best to you.
So, I got this idea for a story back in 2013. I submitted a post apocalyptic flash fiction piece for contest. I didn't win. I took that piece and turned it into a short story. Submitted it, no one was interested in buying. But! The comments from readers in workshops, that did read it, said, "Good Story! I want more!" 2019 rolls around, it becomes an epic novel ready for publishing. 2020 floods in, and now, with exception of the monsters, my novel is no longer fiction. The most often spoken comment: "It was so real!" Yes, my goal as a writer of fiction is 'suspend disbelief' Now, the thought that I deal with daily, is, 'Are readers going to want to read a story about something that is happening right now?' Novel #1, 2 ,3 & 6 all got shelved for numerous reasons. Looks like #7 might go the same route. But I have to admit, I got closer to to publishing it than I did the others. I don't much like writing stories that take place in the future. I prefer the nostalgic. The sentimental. Stories that come out of the past. Novel #8 is just that. 1955 appears a little more sedate and looks like a good place to spend my days even it is Arkham, MA. Going to travel back in time now! See you later!
Have been working hard to bring a paperback copy of 'The Writer's of the Depths' short story anthology into existence. The Writer's Room (TWR) has graciously accepted my proposals. It is now a reality. It will soon be available and we will all have the chance to hold an actually hard copy in our hands. Hurrah! Thank you Erin Casey and TWR.
The manuscript sits upon my desk. Complete and ready to go, yet I hesitate. I am a little nervous. My characters await their introduction, but the word is, "This story is too real!" Climate change, pandemic, patrolling bodies of monster slayers out to lessen the population of amphibious fiends brought forth into the light from the the warming of the waters. In the middle of it all, Harry, a young, gifted swordsman of 18 trying to do his share as well as maintain some kind of a relationship with an equally gifted girl monster killer, in order to keep some love in his life. The thing he finds that is truly worth living for in the year 2035.
So, The Writer's Rooms held a reading at a bar back on the 14th in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The Writers of the Depths-An Anthology. A great deal of credit should be given to Erin Casey, Director. Additionally, kudos should be given to Amber McNamara of the Cedar Rapids Public Library for coordinating the event. But! I am not a fan of readings in bars. I have attended many. Some as a supportive friend, some as a reader. Book stores, coffee shops, etc. Readings presented in atmospheres proper for reading--yes. The pub, NO!
Not once have I had an enjoyable literary experience in a pub, other than drinking, and shouting to make myself heard. As a reader, if I have to shout my narrative to be heard, my audience straining to hear my words, the experience is not going to be pleasant for me as the presenter nor the ones who come for the 'Reading Experience'. People come to the bar to drink, chat and watch the television. They come to get drunk, shout, carry-on and make merry. So be it. I'm all for it. Writing is an art. The Spoken Word is an art. The pub is not the place. There are two competing atmospheres.
I take Max Erhman's Desiderata to heart, I so to endeavor to: 'Go placidly amid the noise and haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons...' But I also wish to '.... avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. Vexations to the spirit of presenting art.
The pub is for loud and aggressive persons--and so it should be...
'When Walls Fall Down' is a reference to the wall coming down in Berlin, Germany back in 1989. But it also regards the walls we build personally to separate ourselves from others. This story that was twelve years in the making, requiring me to travel the world in order to create a depiction that was as close to the truth as possible. It is about us knocking down those walls, and people coming together. I will be traveling to Cedar Rapids, Iowa the 7th & 8th of this month to present my first full length novel and offer signed copies with a reading in the afternoon of the 8th. The I.O.W.A. program will be hosted by the Cedar Rapids Public Library.
I am getting excited! Hope to see you there. You may now also find me at AllAuthor.com. Be prepared to be overwhelmed. Slainte!
The U of I Summer Writing Festival is over and now I have to reacclimate to the full day writing life. Being that active takes me away from my novels. I am actually somewhat of an introvert. Signing up and taking classes with other people is actually me pushing myself to interact 'because its good for me'. It is exhausting! Ann Marrow Lindberg said: “The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere. That is why so much of social life is exhausting; one is wearing a mask. I have shed my mask.”
I too have shed my mask as I return to a more secluded writing day. Don't get me wrong, I'm a Humanist, I love people. I chose the Altruistic path a long time ago. But, there is the negative side to everything. That is how life balances. So, there is always the bullshit. The baggage that people bring with them and insecurity shall saturate the ground where they stand. I a had particular tough week long class back in July and it was just full of that. It brought toxicity to a whole new height. I am too used to freedom. Time to withdraw, lick my wounds and reflect on the positive. Delving back into fiction will help me do that. Slainte.
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