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When the well is dry…

Dorothy here: While Dave is moving, I wanted to take a moment and share with the world some excellent advice he gave on dry spells, originally posted back in September 2017:

When the well is dry where do you go for water?

You know I have spent many years mishearing songs and making up what I thought were the lyrics. Sometimes they’re a great deal more meaningful than the real thing – or at least to me.

I heard Peter Sarsted’s ‘Where do you go to my lovely’ as ‘where do you go to my lovely, when you’re alone in your head’ (not bed)…

To me, anyway, as writer who tells himself stories, whether he intends to or not, with the different characters speaking their dialogue and thinking their thoughts… being alone in my head is a very frightening thing.

Where did they all go? Why did they leave me behind? Was it something I said? Read more

The Long Tail—the tail that is always new

Rudyard Kipling wrote several great poems about wanderlust and the itch to look over the next hill, including “The Long Trail.” We authors are more interested in the long tail, the sales of our earlier books. We want new readers to have access to our older work, to buy them, enjoy them, tell others about them. Long tail sales can yield a pretty penny over time, and can lure new readers in as well.

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Uncle Timmy

This is a story about the nicest man in all of Fandom.

I first came to LibertyCon because it was a family reunion for family I’d never met before. Read more

Is talent useless in isolation?

I had a back-and-forth discussion this past week with an aspiring writer, who felt crushed because she “wasn’t talented enough” to make it as an indie author.  I asked her how she’d come to that conclusion.  She said that all her previous efforts (which she was reluctant to share) were “useless” or “no good” or “dull”.  She couldn’t seem to ignite a spark in or with her words that would make potential readers catch fire.

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Of Warriors Born

Every now and then I’ll surface from my mostly-hibernating state and notice another twit rabbiting on about whirled peas and how any form of force or competition is evil, bad, and causes pimples or something. Most of the time I have a quiet little giggle to myself about stupid people and hope for the poor deluded fool to have a Darwin-worthy ending.

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Making the Most of It

I’m finally at graduation.   It’s an odd place. Lest you think I’m kidding, I’m typing this as I listen to the valedictorian speak.  He’s doing a nice job, quoting Theodore Roosevelt about who matters- the man in the arena and not the critic.  

Being the man in the arena is not unusual for me.  I wrestled (and lettered) all 4 years of high school, I earned my living and my pay as a cannon cocker on a gun line.  In these I am totally used to being the man in the arena. Such ventures prepared me for tackling a new arena- academics. Read more

Anatomy Lesson

Talking about swords is kinda difficult. Case in point: last week I tried to give a definition, and ended up skewing off into the weeds of history almost immediately. In discussing this very difficulty with Tom (who has just founded the Albany Study Group of Schola Saint George) he suggested I leave you with the definition with which I started last week, and tell you to go an prosper, under the assumption that suffering produces better art. Now, I didn’t tell him to get bent (I figure his mettle is better than *that*) and I’m not going to let him know his oh-so-clever japes actually helped. Read more