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I write fast as it is. That’s a brag—I think I earned it. I’ve written more than a million words and I’m still in my twenties. That’s probably worth some credit.
But even I was not prepared for how effective writing sprints are for me.
Like, these things are absurd. Continue reading
It takes quite a while,
And is never easy,
This publishing thing,
It is a struggle. Continue reading
When you’re a writer, and you tell people that you are, you end up getting a lot of people asking questions about it.
And when you tell them that you’ve written, like, 20 novels/novellas, you get the obvious question:
How did you do it?
Well, here’s how I did it, in book form:
I write, right?
For combat is my story—
I feel you can tell a lot,
When your characters are in fury, Continue reading
Let’s talk about my writing history here. I don’t mean it as a brag, not much anyway. It’s just context, and it’s interesting context.
I spent about 2 years writing like a madman. A book a month or so. Massive, massive amounts of content. I kept it going even through some pretty intense exhaustion, and I don’t regret that.
But there came a day when I was working on a book and I wasn’t exactly blocked, I was just…off. I felt tired of it, unwilling, though not unable, to write another book. The stories I already created, that only I had seen, felt like they were staring at me with menace. Like they were angry with me for letting them rot and gather dust. Continue reading
Okay, honest here, I’ve written a lot. Over 20 books. Depending on how you count novellas, it’s a lot more than that. For more than 2 years, closer to 3, I wrote around 1500 words a day. That’s over a million words. Continue reading
It’s not that I am not productive and active and such in my life. Not as though I fail to have meaningful contributions. I’d like to think I lead an existence that’s not particularly slothful—but my own ability to do as much as I would want in any given day bugs me to no end.
For instance, sure, you know of the one book I’ve written—I’d hope—but I’ve actually written somewhere in the ballpark of 20-25 novels/novellas in just two years’ time. But my editing skills and my speed at it are so slow, and I can’t seem to get a good schedule going, that there’s only one book you know about right now. Continue reading
I give myself,
To write this poem,
And it’s not going well, Continue reading
Some may disagree with me doing this. Some may become alienated as my experiences do not match up to theirs close enough. And some might simply be mad at me for some other reasons that if I were to guess, I’d likely be wrong about it anyway.
I’m gonna demystify creativity. Continue reading
Someone once told me that horror writing, good horror writing, often involves writing about what personally scares oneself.
I don’t apply this rule very much.
Partially because I don’t enjoy scaring myself—and partially because my fears are not all that interesting. They are mundane, mostly.
But hey, it’s almost Halloween, let’s have some fun.
I hate/fear/cower from the following. Continue reading
Now, before you ask any more questions in your head, this post is not motivated by any political event or person or anything of that sort. I am not writing this in response to anything.
I am writing this because I feel I need to write this. Continue reading
I used to be able to push myself to five in the morning, every single day. I did this for months, always hating it, always wishing I did not have to be up that late. But, behold, that was what always happened.
It’s still happening, and it is my own fault. I’ve probably (but I’m not sure) mentioned this before on the blog, but I subscribe to a thing I call “The Dailies.” They are activities that I must accomplish, no matter how sleepy I am, no matter what, within a cycle of me being awake. Continue reading
Sometimes I write articles to answer questions in a place I can always point to later. And, lately, a question I’ve gotten a few times is “what made you write this book?” So, here’s the answer: to tear down an old cliché.
I make no bones about this, I am tired of stories with “being the chosen one” as the reason for a protagonist to be a protagonist. Characters that are talented, characters that are part of an elite group: that’s fine. Stories about average joes are not the only type of tale, and it would be boring if they were. But, specifically, what ground my gears when I began writing Just Another Chosen One were those tales of heroes who would always win in the end.
“Destined” to save the world.
Where’re the real stakes there? Continue reading
I’m guessing some would recommend I don’t write about this, but, well, you all know I’m eccentric as it is—so, fuck it. Writers already have the stigma of being a weird bunch, but you’ve heard, likely, all the usual shenanigans—so, I’m doing you one better.
Not just researching murder methods, talking to people who they make up, or being totally willing to do dangerous/stupid things for the sake of a story: nah, I’ve got a set of much more unique quirks.
And it involves words and language. Continue reading
(Originally posted December 2nd, 2017.)
Are you busy?
Uh no. Hey
Hi! How are you?
Wht happened? Continue reading