How many of us deep down desire to get away from all of the “noise” of this century in which we must live? How many of us wish to saunter on a secluded country lane by the side of our well-dressed handsome gentleman or bonnet-wearing lovely lady?
Because once the last word is on the page, well, that’s it. Done. You have become just someone who has written a book. That was then. What are you doing now?
I sense I am approaching *that* time for a soon to be new book where I sit back and take stock of the draft as a whole. Soon tweaking with “this and that” begins. I’ve learned that in some ways this is also the toughest time.
A bit of history. A bit of romance. In my humble opinion, it doesn’t get any better.😊
Oh, and what do authors discuss in private messages? Hush, hush, secret writing stuff, of course.
I had one of those writing moments early on Saturday morning here at my dad’s house too. These things often hit us in the middle of the night. Actually… in that case I mean about 4 o’clock in the morning.
Hello from upstate New York!
I always think when I see such a meme or assertion: “If you actually do believe that rubbish, you’ll learn that you can’t do it. I have.”
As they say, Oh, My, god. I have a new novel I want to finish. This is not exactly great.
So change is happening. We are moving. My posts this week, possibly into next… well, there may not be any.
Hmm, I suspect I don’t really take these social media writer things seriously enough. 😉
I will always remember what I was told after I revealed in 2013 I was writing Passports and showed the initial draft first to my (English) Mrs., and then to an English woman friend. Having read it, separately they both noticed that I was inadvertently mixing American-English language forms and British-English.
In my early-middle twenties, I thought much that same way as he writes. It all seemed hypocritical, absurd, and unnecessary. Then I met someone who suggested a perspective I had never before really considered…
Television is a form of mass theater that is sent invisibly into homes and viewed on an object that looks something like a window and is hung on a wall; whilst Twitter is best characterized to you I think as appearing on interactive television we call “the internet” and it much resembles the graffiti one sees scrawled by angry mobs anonymously on walls in Paris and in Rome.
A mere seven years ago, in early 2012, most of you had never heard of me and I knew of almost NONE of you (who did not know me already in real life).