Review for Let Me Tell You A Story, by Tim Waggoner

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I’ll start this with a few comments. I’ve read the other two books in this series. They’re two of the best “How To Write” books. The other books on that list are Stephen King’s On Writing, On Writing Horror By the HWA, and John Gardner’s On Becoming A Novelist. Some of these are not true “How To” books. King’s is more of a memoir, plainly stated on the cover. The others are How To Write books. Yes, King’s book has a section on “How To,” but the majority of the book is a memoir and a damn good one.

Tim’s books stick with horror, and while the first two, especially the first book, are great for beginners, the third book feels like it’s for those further along in their writing.

I loved this one as someone who has moved in a different direction with their writing. The first two helped me get started. This one is helping me move along in a number of ways.

I stopped writing for the last couple of months. But this is bringing me back.

This book is about Tim analyzing his own stories. Some of which were written a number of years ago. This feels like Tim talking to his younger self. Telling stories about the writer he was. Going through the stories is an analysis of the stories, but also a trip and memoir about the writer he was and is.

I’ve read my older stuff and see the progression from that writer to the one I am now. I see the elements repeating themselves, as they have for Tim.

Now, the part I can’t talk about. I did not do the exercises in this book. Doing them and reading the book for a review would take a bit longer. I will do them when the book comes out and share them here. I spent a few weeks doing the exercises in the other two books. I intend to do that with this book as well.

I’ll say that Tim gets better with each one of these. I’m sure he’ll be up for another Stoker for this one and probably win.

This series of books has helped me find my voice, fix writing issues, and improve my grasp of the craft. His idea in the first book of creating bags and pulling things from them gave me the idea for the novella I have coming out next month. It was woods, mental health, and cults. I ran with it from there. I got my copy through NetGalley, but as with the others in this series, I’ll purchase the physical copy. I need to get through each of the exercises. You all will be the first to know when I do.

Here is a link to Amazon for the Paperback, the Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for this book.

Moving ahead and through

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I’ve had this problem with who I am for a long time. Am I the kid whose parents divorced when he was eight and threw his world into shambles? Am I the 18 year old who was sent home from Marine boot camp?

I used to be really angry with my parents about their divorce. My mom left when I wasn’t home and nothing was explained to me. Her and two of my sisters just weren’t at our house anymore. We all went to therapy together, but it was a ruse, or at least felt like it to me. I knew something else was going one. I was eight. I had no idea the minds of adults.

Over time, I’ve grown to understand what they went through. That eight-year-old boy may not understand, but this 47 year old man does, and that’s good enough for me to move forward.

That 18 year old boy didn’t know what the hell was happening. He said something about his lungs. He didn’t have any lung issues, but had a reaction when he was working one night. He took that as something worse. It’s something he, and I, have had to deal with for almost 30 years. Sometimes the consequences of honesty are not what you expect. Sometimes they change your life. I’ve been angry with what I said that day. It’s taken a long time to forgive that boy. He’d barely experienced anything in his life. He’d barely lost his virginity(Something that was a big deal then, but not as much now). I think that boy needs to be forgiven. He wanted that title worse than anything. He didn’t know the consequences of his actions. He was just a kid who wanted to get away from his family.

I never planned to come home after boot camp, except to see my grandmother. She passed away while I would have been at boot camp. It’s a nice thing to say that if I’d have made it through boot I’d never have talked to her again. She visits me often. I don’t believe in things happening for a reason. It’s bullshit.

I see where my life is. I see that boy I was, both at eight and 18. He would be amazed we’re married, have kids, and writes books. Neither of them would have believed it.

It’s time to do something now that I’ve let them go. There’s a force in me that rears its head on occasion. I call it the monster. It’s been leashed for too long.

Let’s take it for a ride.

Getting back to normal

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I found myself straying away from the point of this blog. It was meant to help me deal with the world around me. I know why it went sideways. I was chasing my writing. I should have let it develop on its own.

I used to talk about depression, dealing with it, and trying to escape it.

I have a book coming out in October. It was challenging to write. Here’s where I get a bit personal. With the healthcare system in the United States, I should have seen someone about a specific situation. I had a severe mental break ten years ago. During and after that break, I dealt with delusions. I would hear things, see things, and for most of those years, believe untrue things. I used what I dealt with to write the book coming out in October.

I didn’t seek professional help because I worried it would impact my wife’s and my health insurance. We had great health insurance in Las Vegas, but sadly, we’re using my wife’s now. It’s not as good as what he had in Las Vegas. But no health insurance is decent when it comes to mental health.

Gerald’s journey in ‘The End Is All I Can See’ is similar to mine. He has dealt with other issues, but writing the book was cathartic. I found myself diving into my head, seeing the world through those lenses. I haven’t been diagnosed with what Gerald deals with, but the signs point to it. My delusion was something like the Truman Show. I completely believed the delusion. It wasn’t until I said something to my wife that we sat down and discussed it. It continues to raise its head. It’s usually when I’m stressed or worried about how I’m perceived. This perception led me to believe in the delusion. There are times I’ve wished for it to be real. This plays into the delusion. With my writing, it’s an ever-present thought. If the delusion were absolute, someone would care about what I do. Someone would care about my writing. It’s all any of us want. For someone to care about us. This makes my depression worse. I constantly worry I’ll head down the road on this delusion and have a psychotic break. This is my greatest fear with the delusion.

I would like the delusion to stop. I have weeks where it’s not there. Then it pops up again.

I think it started a few weeks before my mental break. I’d taken a pill for something. A few hours later, I heard a woman screaming for help. I ran around our house and outside, looking for her. My wife was worried as hell. A woman, completely naked, her skin all bloody as if she were pulled from a Clive Barker story, stood outside our closet. I didn’t say anything to my wife about the woman. I knew how mad it sounded. I knew how absolutely ridiculous the idea of the woman being there was, but I saw her.

I haven’t seen her since, but it’s something that has stayed in my head.

I had to get that out. I hope you’ll read the book when it comes out.

Review for Looking Glass Sound By Catriona Ward

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I read this in about a week. Honestly, I’ve had trouble reading Catriona’s work before this one. I couldn’t get into Needless Street. It’s one of my wife’s favorite books, but I struggled and DNF’d it because of those struggles.

I try to find a connection to books while reading them—something from my past or, with this one, something from my childhood. My parents divorced when I was in third grade. They fought constantly over everything. I understood Wilder Harlow.

We start with Wilder in his youth. Something messed up happens one summer that changes everything for him and the friends he’s gained during the summers his family vacationed on the Maine coast. I don’t want to spoil this book, but I’m Warning You there may be some within this review.

The incident in question haunts Wilder throughout his life, eventually leading him to write a book about it.

He returns to the scene many years later, but this is where it got weird for me. The book took a turn into the abstract. It made me question what I’d read up to the ending. It almost felt like I was duped. The ending felt like a dream ending in books or movies. I loved the book up until the end. I wanted it to stick the ending. It came out of left field for me.

There is so much I want to say about this book. I want to talk with others about it. The ending was off for me. Maybe I missed something and need to read it again, but the ending with the book (you’ll understand when you read it) came across as forced and convoluted. I ended up not entirely sure what happened and what was a story within the story, but not in a good way.

My wife and I talked about Needless Street. She told me the ending, and maybe having known it, I should have been prepared for it to do what it did, but I didn’t care for it.

I want to discuss this book with whoever wishes.

Taking the Time

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This post popped up on Instagram and several other sites over the last few days. It’s the “Take The Next Six Months” post. I saw it six times in the last couple of days. I’m taking that and other things as a hint to disappear for a while.

I’ve thought about doing this and posted here about it a few times. I no longer need to post, write, take pictures, or do anything else on the social media trash fire.

I will continue to write, and I have a book coming out in October and another in December. They’ll come out, and I’ll promote them, but I won’t kill myself over this anymore. I’m done trying to play the game.

I have too much to do and don’t want to worry about clicks or how well my books are doing. I’ll write in whatever genre I feel like at that moment. Get it as good as I can and publish it.

I hope you’ll read my books. They’re wherever you can find your books.