I’m not a big fan of blogging. These days I’d rather spend that time either writing or researching for said writing. Why talk about writing when you can write instead? In my opinion blogging is like advertising, and advertising is ultimately worthless without something of quality (or sometimes quantity) to back it up. I equate it with people who talk big but don’t have the substance to back it up. Meanwhile there’s a quiet guy in the corner doing the work – that’s me.

I tend to stick to fiction, though one of my most-loved short stories is non-fiction, and I write an average of a poem a day. My preference is first-person present-tense, though I enjoy experimenting with other forms of storytelling. Similar to that, I like writing novels but have done quite a few short stories that were almost as satisfying. In my opinion it’s important to test one’s own boundaries and try other things in regards to one’s craft, no matter what craft that may be. As a couple of examples, I wrote a short called “Radio Show” which was 100% dialogue, and last year I did a “week without verbs” in my daily poetry.

Recently I co-wrote a work of wuxia with my buddy Laurie aka “Stinky.” I’ve always wanted to write a wuxia, but knew I didn’t have the cultural / historical input to do it right. That’s where Laurie came in (I’ve made a few posts on that, actually).

About poetry – I waffle between loving it and hating it. I usually appreciate the dense language of it, but also tend to find it “too artsy” to truly enjoy. I do it every day as more of an exercise in creativity, though sometimes it comes out as the harshest self-criticism I can fire at myself. Both types serve a purpose to me, and I’ve done it for years now, but in the end, my love is still in fiction.

Kerouac had his 30 rules for spontaneous prose, and I’m in the process of writing my own version called “My Own Personal Kerouac.” It’s less of a set of rules for writing and more of a set of guidelines for living and interacting with / perceiving the world as an artist. Anyhow, Kerouac’s 5th point was “Something that you feel will find its own form,” and I think that sort of sums-up my feelings on art (and to some extent life).

Enough banter about writing.



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