For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Tag Archives: writing
Words Of Discouragement: 42
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Words Of Discouragement: 41
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Writer Resolutions for 2017
New Year, new Drew.
The following are my resolutions for my writing going into 2017.
Finish What I start
I need to take my stories all the way from conception to the query letter. I’m good at writing first drafts then moving on to the next bright shinny thing. Part of the problem is I’ve gotten addicted to the instant gratification of publishing short fiction online.
My novels and novellas have suffered for that. I need to remind myself that everything I post here is in service to the novel I’m cheating on.
And speaking of query letters. I need to…
Sell What I Write
I’ve sold some of my short stories, but I drop most of them into the gaping maw of Beelzeblog, the master of metrics, the prince of platforms, the ruler of reach. He demands a sacrifice a week. At night, I hear him growling from my laptop.
“Feed me.”
I can never satiate Beelzeblog’s hunger for fresh content, but maybe I shouldn’t. It’s hard to sell something once you’ve given it away. I need to hold more material back.
I’ll keep sharing stories, but I need to use some to expose my work to new readers, pad my bibliography, and earn money. Continue reading Writer Resolutions for 2017
Words Of Discouragement: 40
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Words Of Discouragement: 39
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Words Of Discouragement: 37
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Words Of Discouragement: 38
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
Words Of Discouragement: 36
For when you’re tired of platitudes and want a little attitude.
We Are Living in a Dystopian Fantasy
What if the Trump administration was just the beginning of a Young Adult Fantasy story?
•••
Naomi felt like a baby in a blanket. She was swaddled, covered in drool, warm and safe. It took her a moment to realize she was wearing a straight jacket and that stiff surface beneath her wasn’t a crib, but the floor of a padded cell.
Naomi’s eyes took time adjusting to the light. The fluorescent fixtures had rainbow auras, they shined so bright they cast sunspots on the walls. The shadows swayed back and forth as her pupils shifted in and out of alignment. Finally the chamber revealed itself.
The cell was lined with a canvas with two tones: white on the top and stained at the bottom. Its cushions were lopsided from years of use. At this point the padding looked like it would do a better job protecting the walls than the patients.
Naomi’s head throbbed. It felt like a rat had burrowed beneath her brow, curled up, and started kicking the skin. It took all her strength to wrench herself up off the floor. Continue reading We Are Living in a Dystopian Fantasy