Author’s Note //1

Or is it Blogger’s note? “Author” sounds too formal.  But I like it!

The following was posted on my personal FB page.  I include it here because it’s somewhat of a more detailed description of the direction the blog is going presently. And, it’s easier than writing something new-ish.  Thanks as always for reading.  

Sticking to my written communication philosophy, which can be summarized as, “Why say something in a hundred words when you can use a thousand, or more*?”, I have rambled a bit below, but will state up-front for those who have no time/patience/inclination for the “art” of wordiness, that I have a proposition and an “ask”:

If you’re interested in helping me practice and hone my as-of-now very poor fiction writing skills, if you believe in a future that includes not-terrible-but-not-terribly-compelling stories from a middle-aged dad of four, if you think it’s high time that “bad-ish writing” be given a chance to flourish and transform into “barely passable prose,” please consider liking my Facebook page, my blog, and/or signing up for my periodic emails. (If you can’t tell, I loathe “self-promotion,” but they say it’s necessary, so here we are.) Simply skip to the end for the links.

Or don’t; see if I care. (Spoiler: I care)

Thanks for the consideration!

For those now beside themselves wanting more info (and after that intro, who wouldn’t be?), read on below.

The rest of you are free to go now, if you wish. . . Seriously. . . This is the final warning. . .Here There Be Words. . . Mmkay, here we go. . . Btw, I knew you’d stick with me, had no doubt who my true friends are!

(Don’t tell the others I said that.)

I love fiction. Always have. Among other things, I’ve come to believe that good fiction often express deeper truths than can be related through rote information or opinion. (Which, by the way, might be more true, and more important, today than ever.) For instance, I could tell you that my great aunt Tillie** is a cantankerous old killjoy who happens to make a mean strawberry rhubarb pie, a slice of which would tempt the devil himself to repent of that whole garden of Eden episode. But if I can SHOW you that, and let you reach that conclusion about Aunt Tillie on your own, there seems to be real power in that.

Maybe it’s the journey it takes to get there, I don’t know.

A few months back, I started a blog. There were two main reasons. One, I like to give trends a good 10 to 15 years before I decide if I’m going to participate. (On a slightly related note, I have a basement full of iPod Nanos, Doc Martins and Michael Buble CD’s if anyone is interested. I’ll make you a great deal.)

Secondly, and more importantly, I enjoy writing and would like to practice, in front of an audience, if possible. I need the feedback to know what works, what doesn’t, what I should pursue, and what I should take to the local Greyhound station and send off with a one-way ticket to Tijuana, a fistful of pesos, and my best wishes for a fruitful life . . . somewhere else.

Originally, the blog was meant to be an extension of the type of “stuff” I’d put up on FB. You know, inane observations about how parenthood resembles guerrilla warfare, and how the workplace can be like spending time inside a real-life telenovela, one written by 12-year-old boys who have broken into grandpa’s secret stash of hooch. The name itself came from the notion that I work in an industry that I don’t fully understand, and so the “character” of The Scientist was me. But then my wife wisely pointed out that my benevolent employers might not appreciate the implication (to which my first response was to think, well, if they’re upset, at least that means they’re reading the blog – stats on the rise!).

So, The Scientist is now a decidedly non-me character who lives within a larger narrative, one which I only have the faintest notions about. To be sure, some of the same stupid and childish life observations which many (or few) have come to love (or hate/tolerate) will be present. Also, I have had some stories rattling around upstairs (a literary term which herein means My Brain – you can see the quality you are in for should you thrown in with me!) for a few years, and I THINK I can get some of them down in this format, for better or worse.

I have no illusions that I can write good or even passable fiction. That’s not false modesty, those are just the facts as I see them. I have simply always envied good fiction writers for not only the way they are able to express certain things to others, but because of the journeys that they must be able to take for the first time when they’re writing their stories.

So, if any of this interests you, head over and like the Facebook page, follow the blog itself, follow my Medium account, and/or sign up for exclusive emails.

And please keep in touch.

Thanks very much.

*Note: There are actually 913 966 words in this post. So . . .

**Note: I have no great Aunt Tillie, nor do I have any relatives that match the brief description given above. Which is probably instructive here, as I should point out that all characters and situations are fictional, and any resemblance to real folks is purely coincidental. Particularly if the character turns out to be really unlikable. Again, purely coincidental. Unless you earn it, then we’ll see. I’m kidding!

Or am I? (Email subscription)

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