Saturday, December 30, 2017
Maybe my writing sucks. Maybe it's that simple. Maybe my writing is trite and boring. I must pose this question if I'm to be rigorously honest: Am I that bad? My books, are they not worth reading? They don't sell. Not even a little. They just don't sell. I did some marketing. I won an award and a beautiful review from Writer's Digest. I was reviewed numerous times, and reader response glowed with love. It didn't help.
Has this huge effort been my escapist fantasy?
I don't accept that idea. But I wouldn't, would I? Otherwise how did I put in the decades of practice, the repetition, the rejection? A compelling artist needs to work at the craft passionately and beyond reason. A hundred drafts of one page? I've done that as a matter of routine. I've re-written each of my books five times, ten? I've lost count.
This epic failure is a case of falling through the cracks. I may be the Van Gogh of modern writers. If you thirst for vivid emotion and wild color, it's there in my stories. The catalog of books on Amazon is bloated by a million titles. Why should anyone pay three bucks to download a bit of my life's work? How do I get the attention of readers, of my natural audience?
My books are wonderful books. If you value originality, skill, vision and perception, you should read what I've written. Read "Confessions Of An Honest Man". It's my autobiographical novel. When my book placed in their competition, the editor from Writer's Digest wrote "I don't usually read this kind of book but I feel better for having read it. I will carry this novel with me for a long time."
Read any of my books. If you get bored, you're not my audience. I write for artists, therapists and their clients, boomers who used acid, the curious, the addicted, the recovering, the failed, the intelligent and the sensitive ones...and I don't suck. In my modest human way, I'm glorious.
"Confessions Of An Honest Man:" the link. Confessions Of An Honest Man
Thursday, December 7, 2017
LOST: ONE MALE LIBIDO
This libido (center figure) was last seen on December 31, 2016. It is approximately ten feet tall, six feet wide and four feet deep. It has between twelve and twenty horns of various descriptions. It's covered in long brown fur and has eyes all the way around its cylindrical body. The number of fingers, tentacles and hands it may possess are unknown as it can sprout extra limbs at moments of high stress. It is not very intelligent but possesses a wild cunning that can catch pursuers off guard. If you see this libido DO NOT APPROACH IT. DO NOT ATTEMPT A DIALOGUE. IT IS NOT AMENABLE TO REASON. Call the local sheriff's department, dial 911 or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
There are commonly available and well known techniques that calm this libido but I discourage their use except in extremely dangerous situations. Under proper conditions this is a highly trained and valuable libido. I am reluctant to cause it damage or harm. You might call it by one of its names: Thor, Zeus or Johnny. This tactic may backfire, however, for if it is Johnny and is called Thor or Zeus it gets very upset. Likewise if it is Thor and is called Johnny, etc. The best approach is simply to say, "Hey big guy. How's it hangin'." It has been trained to recognize this as a non-threatening mnemonic. It may trigger my libido's desire to return to its so-called master.
I repeat: DO NOT APPROACH THIS LIBIDO. CALL THE AUTHORITIES OR NOTIFY ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE at email@example.com.
REWARD OFFERED: I will give you, free of charge, my guaranteed technique for healing all stress, depression and emotional trauma.
SPECIAL CAUTION: Do not mistake this libido for the so-called Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Yeti or Skunk Ape. It is not a primate and is immune to veterinary drugs. Rather than seek out police or Forest Rangers it may be more useful to find an old shaman from the Chumash or Miwok tribes. A qualified shaman will likely be more useful in the safe return of this treasured libido.
Bankruptcy Blues One morning I woke up, did some simple addition and concluded that I was thirty seven thousand dollars...
1. I can never remember the name of Justin Bieber. Wait a minute: Julian Bieber? Justin Bieberman? 2. I forgot number two. Can w...
From The Road Has Eyes The View From Topside of our RV My partner and I have lived in a 38 foot motor coach since 2006...
As I explore the poetry I wrote in the past, I discovered this and at the moment it pleases me. That's how poetry is: one moment I...