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.

 

 

I Apologize.

I apologize for my absence. I’ve been spending my precious few moments of spare time submitting my nonsense to higher traffic sites and publications. 

I love writing, but it would appear that I am not well suited to blog promoting, and again, lack of time is probably a factor. I’ve been going for almost a year and a half and I have accumulated a little over 300 followers. I look at other sites with 5000, or 10,000 followers and I realize I’m not so good at selling my blog. 

I am not abandoning my blog by any means. . . Just taking a look around in the world of writing.

Sorry to my cherished followers. I shall check back in a while!

Big clumsy Fingers

I have big clumsy fingers. They don’t always work well with phone apps.

With the WordPress app, I find myself accidentally hitting things that I wasn’t intending on hitting.

One such thing is the “follow” button that is all too close to the link that takes me to the blog I am trying to get to. I end up “unfollowing” by mistake. Then I have to decide if it will cause more damage to leave the blog unfollowed and hope the blogger doesn’t notice, or re-follow causing a notification to pop up and most certainly making the blog owner wonder what kind of shenanigans I am up to.

I end up liking a lot of my own posts as well. I would never do this intentionally . . . . It just seems vain. But it happens when my bullish fingers go wandering through the china shop of the WordPress app.

The Worpress app has a lag that causes me problems as well. I’ll hit “like” on a particular post, and it takes several seconds for the little star to change colors. I get impatient and hit the “like” again. The little star finally changes color but then immediately back to it’s original color because I hit the like button twice. I have repeated this scenario up to ten times . . . Sending ten notifications to a blogger that I liked their post. . . . . ten times.

Again, I’m sure they are wondering what sort of shenanigans I am up to.

Single Family Asylum Paperback World Premiere!

Thousands of anxious readers lined up outside book stores all across the globe in order to be one of the first to get their hands on the long awaited book release of Single Family Asylum. Police in several cities tried desperately to calm the frenzied book buyers by spraying them down with fire hoses and passing out Starbucks gift cards, but the crowds were relentless in their fervor for the new best-seller. . .

Well, maybe it didn’t happen quite like . . . . Ok, that didn’t happen at all. But don’t let that dissuade you from checking out this collection of ridiculous, funny, family-oriented stories for yourself. You are even free to start rioting in front of a book store if you are so inclined. If you would simply like to check out my new paper back online, here is the magical Amazon book link.

Single Family Asylum

Single Family Asylum is a collection of short, humorous stories about the imperfections of family members and family life that have appeared right here on this blog.

Buy the book! Buy 10 books! Tell your friends! Tell them you won’t ever talk to them again unless they buy the book.

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!

 

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? 

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).