Tag: writer

The Other Side

“‘I have seen what becomes of your kind when you become unburdened.  Consider it, and let dread fill you.'”

–Three and Two and Two

I’m aware I haven’t posted here in nearly two months. Of course I haven’t stopped writing. Now, finally in a steady state a year on from $20,000 Under the Sea being out in the world, I have an idea of how fast things are going. It’s not exactly fast. Faster, certainly, than before I moved out to the yellow-grass afterlife of consulting; slower, obviously, than when I had all of my time to focus on writing; but that’s life.

Part of this two-month delay has been work on One Wing, One Eye, Chapter 9, which is on the longer side of chapters I’ve written on that project, and that’s an alright place to be. Though it might not be clear to you from the minimal frills I put on my posts, Chapter 8 was the end of the book’s first half, and there is something heartening about hitting a milestone like that with some form of momentum, especially as I’ve felt like One Wing, One Eye has been comparatively bogged down compared to Three and Two and Two.

The other part, though, is that I’ve been sandbagging my writing (the aforementioned Chapter 9, a couple of short stories, some snippets) for a possible change in platform. WordPress is serviceable as an online signpost for my in-person interactions, and it’ll relay my screams unto the void along with the best of them, but I’m finding myself maybe a little hopeful that I can find a conduit that will deliver my work to a person who is interested in it rather than someone who simply wants to sell me something. Yes, I know, the grass isn’t all that green anywhere on the blogosphere either, it’s all mostly void and spambots wherever you go, but might as well keep searching, since after eight years, it’s pretty clear to me that this, while sufficient, isn’t quite aspirational.

To those precious few of you who have engaged with me here because you were legitimately interested in my work, thank you. This blog isn’t going anywhere in the near future, even if I do transition my updates to a different platform, and should I make a decision about what that platform is, I will certainly update you all here.

To those of you who have stumbled upon this blog, are curious about my work, would like to support me, etc., the work is always continuing, but every single purchase still helps me out. Give my books a look and see if anything speaks to you.

Living the Dream

In spite/because of my vaguely barren posting schedule, I did want to wish all of you a happy new year (and belated holidays, whichever you celebrate), with the exception of the decidedly persistent scammer who keeps emailing me from Nigeria with an AI-generated profile pic and email pitch. My holiday message for you is more complex:

  • I do not want to purchase access to your botnet, no matter how many fake reviews it will generate for me.
  • I am perfectly capable of Googling the various generically American names you have emailed me under (and finding thereof that no one with that name is in this line of work).
  • Your messages are now routing to my spam folder. Please move on. If you are given to self-reflection, please consider a career in which you commit less fraud.

For everyone else, despite appearances, my December has actually been rather productive, and once I figure out how to collate my output, it will start appearing here again (I had a professional engagement that ate up most of my October/November). I hope you all have been well, and I will see you soon, under a new calendrical quantum.

Partial Eclipse of My Writing Schedule

Posting since it’s been a minute since my previous spree of relatively high-frequency updates. Everything is still underway–a new Apiarist excerpt is forthcoming (hopefully within the week), and editing for $20,000 Under the Sea is hopefully nearing its conclusion. However, travel to see the recent eclipse, while absolutely worthwhile, has put a kink in my content pipeline that I’m only now beginning to sort out. I hope you all are well and that you spent an appropriate minimum of time staring directly into the sun in the past week and a half.