I’m reluctantly coming to the conclusion that I just cannot manage the time it takes to run a blog. I’ve really enjoyed it, and it’s been a real learning experience. I have more post ideas than I know what to do with.
But when I was blogging semi-regularly, I was not getting any time for other writing. Now that I’m trying to focus more on my fiction, I’m not finding myself able to keep up with the blogging. Even without blogging, I have trouble getting enough writing time. Between health, family, work and other commitments and issues, there’s just not enough time. And I’m not one of those people who can just cut a little sleep to make more time. Without a good night’s sleep, I’m useless.
I’m eight books behind on the book reviews I try to write. But I do these on Goodreads anyway,and I’m not sure they get any additional exposure by posting them here.
In fact, after all this time of silence, I’m not sure anyone’s listening.
The Killing Rituals: A novel of the global war on terror by Nir Zamir
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
This book was so disappointing, because it was so good right up until the end.
It started off well with some immediate action, and raising enough questions to keep the story moving forward. The characters were well developed. The tension continued to ratchet up through the story as different threads were introduced and then intertwined.
But the Continue Reading
The End is Nigh by John Joseph Adams
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I picked up the second book of the Apocalypse Triptych, “The End is Now” (review coming soon), on sale, and quickly found that many of the stories were continuations from book 1, so I immediately bought “The End is Nigh” and dove in.
This is possibly the best SF anthology I’ve ever read. It’s packed full of great pre-apocalyptic stories, including one by Hugh Howey that seems to obviously be the origin story for the “Wool” series. Continue Reading
Copyright landscape-photo.net. Used under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 FR license.
It’s hard to believe four months have flown by since I submitted my first short story for publication. I received my (unsurprising) rejection a month later. Some separate feedback I got on the story is that I went overboard trying to incorporate all the senses into the descriptions, and veered into purple prose. When I can, I’m planning to tighten it up and submit it again somewhere else. Just the first step in my 1,000 mile journey.
I’ve been struggling (and often failing) to keep up with weekly blog posts too. My writing time has been so limited lately, it’s frustrating. Depression has also been getting in the way all too often. Ironically, as I approach 200 followers, my number of page views has dropped off in line with my posting frequency.
Anyway, I’ve finally submitted my second short story. Continue Reading
Image courtesy of Wikipedia, copyright Pink Sherbet Photography
Continuing the theme from my previous post, here’s another early memory that’s often been on my mind. It’s also a little embarrassing, but I’m just going to put it out there, because it’s therapeutic (I’m not ever sure how many will read it, given the chirping-crickets response to my last one; then again, it was a busy time of year for most).
I was five years old and had just started kindergarten. Back then, kindergarten was optional, and this was a small private one. Continue Reading
Image courtesy of Psychology Today
I planned this post two years ago when I reviewed the book “What Your Childhood Memories Say About You”, by Dr. Kevin Leman, in this post: Childhood Memories and Our Characters. I’ve started writing it several times. It’s not easy, but I want to get it off my chest. So here goes…
Trigger alert: those with abusive pasts might be troubled by the situation described below.
I believe I was four. I know it was before I started kindergarten (that’s another story for later). My parents both worked, Mom on shift work, so she was gone many afternoons and evenings. A neighborhood girl babysat us at the time. I think she would have been early teens, but I’m not sure. I can’t remember her face clearly now, but I know her name. I’ll call her Sandy. Continue Reading