A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Since going back to college, I haven’t had as much time to write as I would like. I take a notebook with me to school, and during idle moments before and between classes, I write what I can. Over time, it’s added up to quite a bit of raw material that’s worth revising, including six short stories I want to release as a collection.
But finding the time to revise all this material has been another matter, since it’s not as easy as whipping out a notebook in whatever location I happen to be at the time. I need, like, a desk and my computer and ceramic wizard and stuff.
And so I reach forth to summon my blog from the Beyond, where it has languished for too long in silent obscurity:
Earlier this month, the generally excellent Ellen Gregory tagged me in one of those blog things where people tag each other and stuff. I had been searching through dusty tomes of arcane lore seeking powerful knowledge with which to resurrect my blog, but the tag thing promises to be much easier.
It’s called The Next Big Thing–a vehicle in which we are to answer ten questions regarding our current writing projects, such as…
Recently in my college English class, the instructor gave us an assignment: write an explanation of who Psyche is in mythology and turn it in for extra credit. Since mythology and extra credit are like the chocolate and peanut butter of the academic world, I availed myself of the opportunity.
After surveying my handiwork, I realized the content would be a pretty good fit for this blog. My current fiction projects draw inspiration from mythology in general–Chinese and Norse mythology in particular. Exploring the timeless tales of heroes and gods seems like a good use of Writer Time™.
After all, what would these ancient stories be without the realms of perilous wonder in which they take place?
Where does the time go?
When last we journeyed through realms of perilous wonder, I unveiled my mad scheme to go back to college and get a degree. This summer I turned mad scheme into bold action, taking not just one, but x+5=7 algebra classes.
Each class condensed a semester’s worth of knowledge into a five-week period. While I was able to keep up with some fiction writing beneath that workload, unfortunately the blog languished this summer.
It’s the 21st century. Why can we not implant knowledge directly into our brains, Matrix-style?
Me: Whoa…I know algebra!
Master Algebragician: Show me.
…except by “was,” I mean “am.” Starting next week, I will become something I once was, for a brief time, and never thought I would be again.
A college student.
Sometimes our journey through life is a placid river voyage, with serene waters to guide us, and gentle changes in direction that are visible long before we approach.
Other times it is a blind rush through tangled undergrowth, thorns tearing at our flesh, while scavengers stalk us from the shadows, lured by the scent of blood dripping from wounded dreams.
When the incomparable Tami Clayton tagged me for the game that spawned These Questions Three, she also nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award. As with the Liebster Blog Award, rules must be followed so that interdimensional beings do not awaken and devour our world:
- Thank the person who nominated me.
- Include a link to his/her blog.
The astute blog visitor will notice I already linked to her blog when I thanked her. I’m efficient like that. You should see my sock drawer–there are also pants in there. If I need socks, chances are I probably need pants, too.
In the tradition of the recently-renamed Curse of the Devil-Possum–now with provocative photo illustration–comes another horrifying tale of an invader from another world. Read on, gentle blog visitor…
One Saturday afternoon I sat in my office at work, toiling at my desk. Out in the hallway, a thing darted through the air past my door.
I looked up. What was that? Some kind of flying organism?
But having work I wanted to finish before going home, I shoved my curiosity aside and began toiling once more. And once more, the Thing in the Hallway™ darted past my door, this time in the other direction.