Category Archives: Writing

I’m tired of being unpublished.

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I’ve reached a point where I’m tired of being unpublished.

I’ve written eight books and haven’t published a single one.

There are many reasons for this. But they boil down to not editing and not giving as much time to editing as I do to the first draft.

This caused me, at times, to hate writing.

After trying to edit one book, I got tired of it and wrote a couple more short stories as well as a novella.

So with every screw up a plan is born.

This plan will allow me to write something new as well as edit. I tried editing at night. It took away from time with my wife.

I love time with my wife. Sure, most nights were sitting across the room from each other reading. In Las Vegas I was lucky to get that.

I have two novels I’ll be editing for the year. I want to make sure they’re as perfect as possible.

Last summer 13 agents said no to one of my books. After having my writing group go over it, they noticed glaring issues only a different set of eyes can give a story.

I’ll be giving my writing group one of these. The other I’ll post in various places.

I will publish this year.

Happy writing!

A ledge, a death, and finding myself.

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:TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of suicide.

Five years ago I stood on a ledge. I mean this literally.

I was in the parking garage of the hotel and casino I worked at in Las Vegas. It was the end of my shift and I didn’t want to live anymore.

Over the previous six months, my grandfather passed away, I stopped considering my biological father as my dad, and I contracted shingles.

All of this is related to why I stood on that ledge.

I remember standing, the dry Vegas air blowing through my clothes, and not caring what anyone would think about me not being here.

I was mostly just tired. I felt like I caused a lot of pain and I was tired of hurting.

Something happened that day that was nearly the deciding factor for my life. A co-worker told me, “No one cares what happens to you. No one wants to listen to you talk about your writing anymore.”

Those words, completely full of venom and hate, led me to standing on the ledge.

I stared down at the pavement. Feeling the wind brush back my hair and rippled my clothes. Then, I don’t know why, but I stepped down and called my wife. I don’t have an explanation as to why I stepped down.

I explained to my wife what happened.

No one, not even her knew how bad my depression was. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d lost it. I’m not sure if its a guy thing, though I’ve come to believe it had something to do with it.

I talked to her through my Bluetooth on the way home. She had no idea. I know no one I worked with did.

Today, I turned 43. Life got better after we left Las Vegas almost four years ago. I see my kids more, love my wife more, and take care of myself. I enjoy life.

One of the reasons we left was the toxicity of casino work. When we left, I was getting migraines 2-3 times a week. Since we left, I’ve had eight of them.

One of my goals after moving was to write fiction daily. I do that now. I’ve written eight books and I’m planning on publishing a book this summer on Amazon.

If you have thoughts of suicide, please get help. Please tell someone and don’t let some asshole you work with drive you to end things.

I continue to suffer from depression, but after trying Transcendental Meditation after my breakdown, because that’s what it was.

TM has become a daily practice for my wife and I. It changed my life, as well as saving it.

Writing, writing groups, and being a pantser.

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There is a frustration with writing. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s there often enough to give me pause.

Not understanding where the story is heading. Not being able to control the story. As a pantser, these two things plague me daily.

Now, don’t tell me, “Use an outline. It helps.”

Not for me it doesn’t. When I write, it’s about jumping off the bridge and finding wings on the way down.

I’ve tried outlines and beat sheets. They hinder my writing. I don’t know why, but they do.

I’ve written eight books, seven of them written by discovery/pantsing. The one book I wrote with a beat sheet feels stilted. I tried to enjoy writing it, but I slogged through it to the ending.

Now that we’re done with that part, I’ll talk about today and this week.

This week I started something new, ending the story from last week. This feels different from the other horror stories I’ve written. It feels closer to me.

Getting personal in a story is something I know I’ve needed to work on. With this one, that’s why I’m doing. It’s closer and because of that, it won’t be the 86k in a month I wrote a couple of months ago. I’m working through this one more slowly. It feels like its needed.

I will start submitting my horror stories around for critiquing as I’ve found that my writing group doesn’t understand it. They don’t read horror, which is causing a problem.

Anyway, I hope you’re having a marvelous day. I will be posting pictures from my bartending event Saturday on Instagram.

It should be a nice wedding at one of my favorite venues.

When it clicks.

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There was a moment this past weekend while writing that I found the story going in a direction that I hadn’t anticipated.

This sent me to rework the story and go after it from a different direction.

It started, as many stories have lately by being a story prompt. This one took me where I hadn’t been before in my writing. It became more personal.

The personal aspects of it is leading me towards questions I’ve asked about my family while growing up.

Where did we come from? How did our family get to America?

I don’t know why this came up. My family has been in the U.S. on my father’s side since the 1600’s. The other side has been in the U.S. since the late 1800’s.

I know bits and pieces about aspects of my family members on one side. To me it always felt like aspects of my maternal grandmother’s family weren’t told. Those aspects are things I’ve wanted to know.

I’m choosing to delve into them with my writing.

Rough week.

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This week didn’t start how I wasn’t expecting it to.

The story I thought was a novel, wasn’t. Now I don’t have story to write in the morning.

The world decided to throw whatever it could at me and my wife this week.

Our son is having issues with his grades. Our daughter is having issues with her attitude and my wife and I are trying to keep it together.

I don’t usually get personal, but not every week is sunshine and rainbows.

Hope you’re all having a good week.