thefly

I had set a rule for myself... if I wasn't published by the time I was thirty I would hang up the typewriter, figuratively.

I was published, not the way I wanted to but whatareyagonnado? I was in the Writing (or is it Writer's?) Group here about to respond to a member when I thought it better to ramble on here.

I just wanted to get down somewhere: I have one published novel, three "finished" (with that meaning "done writing") manuscripts, two unfinished manuscripts, two manuscripts I want to start and about two dozen short stories. Is that work to be proud of in seven years time? Remember to add in a mental breakdown and that I can't afford to do this professionally yet.

However, I had lost sight. It bugs me. I have to work and coworkers are always loaning me books and movies and then want to talk about them. I'm sorry, bitch (I think to myself), I don't have free time when I'm off to curl up on the couch and stay there all day like you do. I've got a somewhere else I'm supposed to be that I'm trying to reach; see, I went to school (granted, I'm not trying to achieve in my area of study but that's beside the point) where you would rather watch D-War and Karate Dog with your free time instead of pursuing some greater endeavor. We're all not content with our lot in life. I'll get around to watching The Departed but allow me to find my way to escape the fuck away from you people.

Oh, anyways, lost site. I had settled. I tried in November to get a new manuscript completed but fell short. I can't rush this because I've been lost for some time, the errant short story sprouting from my fingertips through the keyboard. I dare not use the word "hope" for, to me, it is a four letter word that must never be uttered, but I believed something was going to happen for me... had to. I had not the wherewithal to do it myself. I still don't, but that doesn't mean I can't find peace in my torrid stories of horror, sex and moral ambiguity.

That's not completely true... I'm still an innocent at heart with a great fear of upsetting the universe so I'm careful how I weave my fictitious one.