. . . time
. . . enough
. . . me
Born in Florida, raised in Texas, returned to Florida and now in North Carolina. Not counting stop offs in Kansas, Oswestry, Shropshire, England; and a return engagement in Texas.
Okay, now even I’m bored and this was my life story. Moving on.
I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. At first, it was simple rip offs of the books that I loved, only subtly twisted. If I ever get in a really bad mood, I’ll go ahead and scan and post a copy of one of my first books called, Where The People Are. As you might guess, it’s a picture book about a young monster who sasses off to his mom and then takes a strange journey.
Hey. I said it was a rip off.
Since then I’ve become slightly better at disguising the rip offs so they look like homages. Sort of. At least partially.
Thanks to spending a number of years as a word monkey at a couple of newspapers and as chief PR flack for the College of Engineering at the University of Florida, I’ve got a rather jaundiced view of writing as a profession.
Not really a lot of belief in the whole writing as art. I’m more of the Stephen King school in that I believe the whole reason for the existence of fiction writing is to entertain the reader. To challenge the reader to consider new ideas, sure. But the most important thing is to get their pulses . . . um pulsing. To get their attention riveted and to make it so they have to turn the page. That’s writing.
Counting how many times a bluebird is used as symbolism in Billy Budd. . . That’s just jacking off while considering how smart you are.
So that’s my philosophy.
Now I get to see if you agree with me. Or at least see if I’m capable of living at least partially up to the whole idea. What do you say?
Let’s find out together.