I am still writing stuff.

I am still writing from time to time, but I thought it greedy of me to hoard my sure-to-be-classic-literature all to myself . . . . actually I’m tickled to death that my nonsense has been chosen for posting by a big blog.

I am fortunate enough to have one of my stories accepted by Sweatpants and Coffee.

Personal Essays | Letting Out the Novel Within

This is a story about finally writing the novel we all have inside.

 

 

The Reviews are Starting to Roll In!

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It’s only been a few hours since the World Premiere of Single Family Asylum, but already the reviews have started to roll in:

“The perfect reading material for those extended sits on the toilet.”  – Plumbers Weekly.

“Complete Rubbish”  – The Society for Perfect Parenting.

“With writing like this, Ziegler is sure to make dozens of dollars”  – The Otisville Women’s Auxiliary Book Review.

But don’t just believe these reviews simply due to the pedigree of the organization from which they originate. Buy your own from copy from Amazon and pen your own favorable review!

Single Family Asylum

 

 

This is Big. . .Really Big.

I have taken the best of my ridiculous short stories from this blog and two previously published books and thrown them into a greatest hits of sorts. The result is probably one of the greatest books for sitting in the magazine rack next to the toilet that was ever created.

The Kindle version is available on Amazon as we speak. . . or as you read. The paperback will be available in a week or so.

Magical Book Link

For those of you who have followed this blog from the beginning, most of these stories have already appeared on this blog. . . . so I will forgive you (eventually) if you don’t purchase it. The rest of you will have to buy the book to read all of the stories that have been featured on this fine blog.

“Well why would I buy the book when I can just go into your archives and read the stories for free?” you might ask.

I will tell you why. Because most of the stories in the book that once appeared on this blog were later removed to be held for ransom. Buy the book or you will never see those stories again. It’s marketing at it’s finest.

Many sincere thanks my dozen or so dedicated readers!

 

A Horrific Tale About Writer’s Block.

The urge to write something epic was over-powering. I needed to create a piece that was unique, but still containing all the time tested components of a classic. I could feel the creative genius building inside me like a pile of leaves that had been ignited with too much gasoline.

A novel! I’d write a novel that would put Melville’s silly fish story to shame. . . . . No, that would take too long and I know from experience, that these bursts of creative energy only last a few hours, or until something catches my eye on TV.

Maybe a poem . . . no, that’s an even more ridiculous notion. I haven’t the slightest idea how to meter, and I think I might be rhyme deaf.

So, I decided that I should stop wasting time deciding what form of literature my writing would be and just start writing. I could always decide later if it was a novel, or poem, or short story. I would just let the spirit take me wherever it wanted.

I sat down at the computer with my cup of coffee. I made myself comfortable, and prepared to unleash the epic-ness . . . I cracked my knuckles in preparation for the flurry of typing . . . here we go.

But nothing was coming out.

The keyboard keys were not clacking.

I thought for sure that this much inspiration was surely the precursor to an earth-shaking subject matter. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I really had no ideas on deck. The desire to begin my masterpiece was unbearable, but there was nothing there!

I began to look around the room as if the dirty cereal bowl on the end table, or the floral print box of Kleenexes would suddenly jar a topic loose, but again, there was nothing.

I stood up and scratched my head. I looked out the window at the overgrown lawn, but all that came to mind was that the lawn mower blades needed sharpening. For a second, I pondered a novel about dull lawn mower blades, but it seemed to lack the potential for being the awesomeness that I was determined to create.

Picking up a women’s magazine from the coffee table, I began to leaf through it. I would write a story about . . . dish soap? No, that’s silly . . . how about “Sizzling Summer Fashion Ideas?” No, even the word fashion itself made me yawn . . . tampons? Good Lord, NO!

I simply had nothing to write about, and it was beginning to make me angry. I was getting angry at my brain. Stupid brain!

After another two hours of seeking ideas from magazines, two glasses of wine, watching the dog sleep, and both sides of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” album, I finally gave in to the fact that I had no idea what to write about, and all the ambition in the world was simply not going to change that fact.

In an act of desperation, I sat down and began writing about having writer’s block, the result of which you are reading now. It certainly isn’t the Pulitzer Prize winner that I was anticipating, but it did occupy me until a documentary about South African Crocodiles came on the television.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I can get away with writing about having writer’s block more than once with any degree of success. I guess the next time I have writer’s block you will be stuck reading about a floral print box of Kleenexes.

Publishers are just Jealous of my Skills.

I’m thinking about having another go at self-publishing. All the publishers I have submitted to just can’t seem to bring themselves to accept my genius . . . . I’m pretty sure they are all jealous of my skills . . . 

No, I really don’t think that. 

My stories are an odd humor. And although they may be entertaining to some (a very few some), I know there are some rough spots to the writing. I don’t see a publisher wanting to take a chance on my stories, so I may have another go at self-publishing. 

I’ve published two different story collections in the past. I didn’t quite make the Best Sellers list, but I was happy that there were a few people, who weren’t my friends or family, who actually enjoyed the books. I carried a 4.5 star rating on Amazon out of about forty reviews, not to mention I made dozens of dollars.

I think I may pick some of my favorite stories (I have around 120 or so to choose from) and re-work them a bit. Then put them in a sort of greatest hits of sorts.

Anyhow, those are my thoughts for this moment. Has anyone out there done any self-publishing? Any success? 

Authors?

Are there any author hopefuls out there? Writer wannabes like myself? I found a website called Authonomy. It is owned by the publisher Harper Collins. 

https://www.authonomy.com

Authonomy offers a place to upload your book, or even a work in progress. Other members can then read and rate your work . . . A lot like many other author websites. The difference, however, is that Authonomy is owned and operated by a publisher, and apparently there is a potential to have your book noticed and published by Harper Collins.

I’m new to the site (blunderdad is my user name if you want to read and leave a review stating that my writing some of the greatest literature that can be found on the planet). Activity on the site is a little slow, but it’s an interesting concept. 

So check it out and tell me what you think. Or maybe you have and already have an opinion.

New York Times Best Seller List, here we come!

I’ve decided to write a dramatic novel one sentence at a time right here on my blog. I think it will either be a murder mystery or a western written in the style of Shakespeare . . . . But I can decide all that later in the book.

Anyway, here goes.

Chapter One.

As Lord Krumbly soothingly stepped from the painfully rustic outhouse into the dull, glistening snow, the murderous and harsh bitterness of the agonizing cold winter wind felt like a horrifying, deadly picker bush as it whipped cruelly acrossed his cheeks (the ones on his face).