…is that there is absolutely no way to gauge which way it’s going to go, or what it’s going to like. For weeks, my biggest hit counts have been for record reviews. Over the last few days? My best seller, so to speak, is a quiet little post about putting the price up on an ebook I had been giving away for a week. I talk a little about the pros of buying an ebook, and people keep reading that post. The Internet is gloriously unpredictable. Thank you.
In other non-news, I’m writing another short story for LinkTales. It’s one of the ones that had stalled while I was looking for the heart of the story. It had a neat concept, but the actual reason for the story hadn’t presented itself. Then an old colleague of mine thoughtfully game me
shit a reason to keep going, yesterday. So thank you, mysterious friend. I just hope I can find reasons for the rest of the stories. It’s better to have reasons for stories, aside from neat concepts and cool titles, I find.
Fiction is weird. Stranger than fiction, really. Maybe that’s part of the reason so many writers have written about writers. It’s an idea that has been done so many times, it must get irritating for some non-book people, especially when the book gets optioned and filmed, like about a third of Stephen King’s novels. Surely there’s only so much that can be said about being a guy or gal who sits on their duff all day typing whatever bullshit pops into their head. And yet, I managed 260,000 words on the subject in Terminal Monday, and have plans to write more stories about the same dysfunctional character in the not-too-distant future.
As an aside, it’s almost 9AM here, but it’s so dim in here that I’m having to test out my touch typing skills, which as it turns out, aren’t in that bad a condition after all. How nice. I’m practically typing at speed, with
very relatively few backspaces.
I should think of a subject for Eddie Mack Avenue today, and get that written. I can’t spend all day at the keyboard; I still have to do that drawing I keep going on about.
Thanks for reading.