Ramping up (DOG EAR)

Ramping up (DOG EAR)

I haven’t been too busy over the last half year, outside of writing my twice-a-week blogs (these dog-ears and my book reviews). Really, there were the little things here and there I had to do, helping co-workers’ kids with their homework efforts, reviewing resumes, that sort of stuff. Just low key, low gear stuff. Then it got busy.

First off, Jurassic London posted me a entry notice for two collections they are going to produce, two kicky little submissions (one flash fiction, the other a heavier effort) combining the historic and the fantastic. Okay, so I did my research and started hammering those out.

Then my lead quit at work, leaving me all her duties, including the Employee of the Week write-ups. As I’ve learned, it can be quite a production to interview some office-drone, puff up their life to make it exciting and relevant, and clean it all up for a web posting. I’m getting quite a fan base for these things, and learning to do scramble-writing, a nice skill to have.

And now my friend Jesse and I are coming up with gridsims.com, a game site for our Excel games. I’ve got to put together the copy and make it it cool and shifty and new. I’m looking forward to trying my hand at it.

And some time in the near future, I’m going on a nice vacation. I’ll have to post up a blog for every day I’m away. There’s even more words for the mill!

As if this isn’t enough, I’ll occasionally drop a short erotic piece onto the internet. Well, some erotic artist is having a contest and personally contacted me, asking if I’d be interested in posting a piece. Why, of course I would (especially since the prize is a hand-drawn bit on art you could date). I mean, writing is writing, right? Write?

Regardless of context or purpose, writing is always writing. Suddenly my plate has filled up and I’m loving it. I’m feeling those stresses drain away. Now the only concern is the next thing that needs posting, the next piece, the next short story.

Even if you don’t have something like a contest or paid posting, write anyway. Write your fantasies and fling them across the next. Write your thoughts in a private diary. Pick a person on the street and drill yourself with a 200 word story about them. Wake up at 2am and write a paragraph about a dream.

But write. That’s the important thing. Few of us can be famous, fewer can be rich, but all of us can enjoy our art.