Ghost Stories

Am I writing a ghost story or two? You’ll have to wait and see. Reedsy just announced that their service package now includes ghost writers. Is Reedsy the Amazon or Google of the self-publishing world; that company that can innovate beyond its’ predecessors? Hard to say. It may be the haven determined self-publishers are looking for as the gold rush of self-publishing implodes upon itself.

Do I need a ghost writer? Or do I need a good team of editors and a mentor that can push me on? At my age, experience and rate of production the idea of a ghost writer is far from repulsive.

No, I don’t want to put out formula work. I want to stand out as a writer. However, would it be easier, quicker, for a ghost writer to rewrite my refined drafts, or easier and quicker to work with a team of editors? I imagine there would be a lot more back and forth with a team of editors.

Then, who am I as a writer? Can I write any small work on my own without a discernable difference in refinement being noticeable. I actually would rather hire a ghost writer to co-write in that case. That, to make it clear the variances that may present in my works.

I will definitely look into the idea. Three completely drafts of various lengths and an epic novel under development mean little if I can’t get them out; and I aint get’n any younger. For now ‘Ike’ our dog is taking all our money.

Never fear. The creative juices are flowing again. Stories are arising in my brain looking for a way out. This is the year that will determine if I can make anything of being an author, in part or full.

Thank you for reading.

The Call of the Wild - Death and Taxes

Nature themes; a theme for my written works better suited to my world view? but what can one do as he watches the world go crazy around him? Perhaps retreat into nature and focus on the wonders of nature, life and death, and delve into its’ mysteries with pen and notebook.

But to what end? Am I even going to be around that much longer? And how? Money; everything requires money and the tax man takes it all.

Spring draws my attentions to tasks of a physical nature. The yard, the garden and dreaming of actually exercising regularly. Even those tasks suffer however when the tax man comes calling.

My ambition wanes, not only when I do not have a positive cash flow, but especially when every penny we earn for the next month, including those earned the previous three months, is earmarked for the tax man; income tax, sales tax and don’t forget the Winter utility bills and a quarterly water bill that has increased 700% since we purchased our house.

Then the brakes on our car went bad. A mucked up caliper stealing our MPG and wearing down the pad and disk with a speed few would be quick enough to respond so as to minimize the destructive force assailing our mode of transportation.

One of these days Microsoft may create a solution to Googles operating changes so that Windows Live Writer will once again work with Blogger. Until then the dated Blogger platform stifles my blogging creativity.

Have you recognized that my blog post is late this month? Yet the writing edges forward, bit by bit.

Much more to come soon.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring.

Hope

Hope springs eternal. At times however, that spring is but a trickle. I must apologize that I have not been as vigorous in my writing as I should have been. Over a month ago my external hard drive, upon which all my work transcribed to Word rested, went missing. I searched everywhere; despair and hope battling, wearing on my heart and soul.

I said to myself, “You’ve only lost about 50,000 words. Your completed works are already published. Most of your pictures of note are on the cloud via blog posts.”

So I went to Reedsy. I started putting down my latest short story on their platform. “I’ll just fight through it. Reedsy may be a better place to record and track my work. The editors are right there. It will work out better.”

Then, the other day, I slid my laptop into my soft sided briefcase designed for laptops and such. Smack. It would not drop clear into the bag. “Did I put the camera in the bag?” I pondered. I reached in and there it was. Leaning out from behind a sleeve that lines the main pocket; my external hard drive. After being lost for over a month I found it.

Found it?

Problem. I had pulled everything out of my bag five times over in my previous searches. I had run my hands into and over every pocket sleeve and surface multiple times. It was not in the bag. My wife did not put it in the bag. She had done a bit of searching herself.

The external hard drive was pin protected and the files required a password to open.

So how did it get there? Where had it been and how did it get back? Does it have retractable legs?… Have you see the latest and greatest robot on the web? I would be nicer to him if I were the guy testing Mr. Robot out.

I have meant for the longest time to edit, make an addition not a correction, to a previous post long past. It is the post where I described how a small action camera I had set up disappeared. That camera reappeared two months after that post. It also materialized in a place I had searched many times over; a tiny basket in which I kept its’ USB cord.

So I was initially inspired when I found the hard drive. My writing surged but not for long. Missing money, a dog, extremely active, that we find cowering in a corner when we come home on some nights, and other unusual events and conversations with my family have worn heavily on me over the years. What is going? Why, apparently, will does this not end by force of my goodwill, forgiveness and long suffering? Does goodness hold no weight in this world?

Now I question if I should even try to access the drive.

I told the story of my external hard drive to my brother this Saturday and his response was, “I have nothing to do with it.” and went on as if it had been merely misplaced.

I have good reason to suspect my family, the rationalizations and supposed justifications for their actions too dark to detail here.

Of course I may be, have been, under John Doe investigations for the last decade or longer. I recently have been treated strangely at our bank. My neighbors have been shunning me for the last two years. I got shocked perplexed looks from some in my social endeavors. My “No Sanction” blog has become increasingly political.

Bottom line, this stalking has taken a greater toll on my wellbeing and productivity than I had previously realized. I am having trouble sleeping and feel exhausted the moment I sit down to write. Are lawyers my only recourse? I have a good idea of where to start. Of course they would need to know where the money is; their fee.

Money; it makes all the difference. I chase industry in my life not money. Industry is a goal, an attribute, hard found when one exists in a void, without a catalyst, such as a job, to facilitate its’ development. Self driven, under duress I must regroup and set my mind back to my schedule and strive once more to produce something I believe of value not just to myself but to the larger society.

Perhaps someday the products of my heart, mind, soul and body will be of value to someone. As of now “I have no money.”

“What did you say?” (It is from a song, sorry)

Thank you for reading. God Bless.

2016

It is a new year. My goals have changed. The drafts are piling up and hey need to be put into the computer and edited. New word counts are impractical as a goal, particularly as they dominate the final week of every month; bringing a halt to the myriad aspects of my life with all their implied duties.

The schedule will be the focus this year; making better use of my time. To finish the Second Chuck Hammer, the first of the pioneers trilogy, is another goal. I also committed myself to three new short stories and hopefully more.

To publish the first in “The Partisans of the Blue” trilogy as well as “Life on the Farm” are high on my list of goals. If I cannot complete them this year I must hang my head in shame.

This new focus should allow me to post mid month snippets on from my work on this blog.

I have set no goals in regards to poetry, though… you never know how the spirit will move. I hope to attend a writer’s conference this year. My wife and I have had few to none in the way of vacations for many a year. It will be an appreciated break from the mundane. Here is an article, a bit old, listing writer’s conferences.

I will still track my new word count as it is important to keep account of true vs. perceived results.

Happy Writing, …or reading.

The Short Story

Christmas. It dominates everything from Thanksgiving to the New Year. One of the self-publishing facilitators made a Facebook post of an article explaining that it is okay to stop writing sometimes. In other words, telling people what they want to hear because most every writer or writer want-a be has slacker off in December.

The end of the month fast approaching, ‘Could I possibly make my goal?’ I despaired. I never imagined falling this far behind. My mind has been off my stories. Another story was growing however and it took me a while to realize that it was the answer. A short story near complete in my mind sat before me, ready for the taking. ‘There is hope.’ I rejoiced.

The story? If I said it was a tale of a dog and his master would you be surprised? “A Hunting We Will Go” is the title; a story of nearly five-thousand words written over the last three days. Still the short story complete, I hope its completion will not have to substitute for my word count goal. After some snotty sleeves and a few kleenex, I am still far from my goal at this point.

Tonight will be spent with Chuck Hammer and putting his experiences down on paper. If I don’t make it, I need to double the goal for January and repent before God and all that is good.

Renewing the experience of writing a short story has brought a determination for the new year; a resolution as they say. That is to write more short stories. Ten would publish together nicely.

Yes, more completed works await editing. Then what do I do about my word count goal when my days are filled with editing an assortment of stories? Clearly I have a lot to work out in this coming new year in regards to my writing ambitions.

Book sales have increased but the scale is of no real consequence. My wife informed me that I have a stalker; a true sign of success. A woman she works with enjoys reading my blogs and has asked for my books. She even offered to pay. My wife must be holding the money for me.

My mind has been drifting to Haiku from time to time. I have too many demands, just to get by in our daily life, to put forth the effort to do it all in regards to my writing ambitions. Personal, financial and concerns over our living condition all draw from my limited energy. The harsh reality is, money will solve a large portion of our problems. It will also allow me to collaborate with some professional editors and the like. Which in turn should lead to even more money.

But money is not the answer. I need to dig deeper. Where does a prosperous life begin? From where does poverty arise? From the spirit alone. If you are prosperous in the ways of the spirit your needs shall all be filled.

Availability is never the problem. The problem is always access. Right now my need must be to write and to live life. I must not need access because I got none.

The bottom line is I need to make money anyway I can.

And I need  Windows Live Writer to work with Blogger again.

Happy New Year