Getting Over It

I’ve given myself permission to start working on that “other” project. Ultimately, it’s a project too big to contain in one book, and too time consuming for pure novels. I’m not taking the idea of the novel off the table, but I am going back to the story’s roots, which is visual, not literary. If there’s a novel, it will come well down the road, maybe as a series finale.

It’ll be my big comic.

My other novel resumes, with the caveat that I must catch up on it before I get into this other piece.

And that’s fine with me.

Thirty novel ideas, one non-fiction, nineteen comic ideas, two board games, this blog and finally, my big epic comic series, plus about four hundred and sixty-seven short stories and/or poems.

That’s what’s on the docket for now (give or take a few short stories and poems). Over five hundred different items.

So far, I’ve completed one poem, one short story, one novelette and one novel. Working on a second novel and my first comic series.

Plus, now the big one. I’ve published the poem and short story on Wattpad (link in bio) and will likely put Jeopardy up there soon. I’ll have more up shortly, though in reading what’s “okay” in the rules of Wattpad, I’m not sure my particular brand of morose philosophizing and overt sexuality is the best place for it.

I’m not sure if there are similar platforms that allow for that kind of stuff, beyond the ones that sound mostly like letters to the Penthouse editor.

I’m hoping my stuff sounds better than that.

At least, I try to make it true to the story and semi-believable.

Awkward even, at times, and wholly unfulfilling. I suspect few people will jerk off to the sex scenes in Requiem For A Doormat. I also suspect a few will find some familiarities.

At least, that’s what I hope.

And now that I’m back on track, I can get back to doing what I do best – overt philosophizing, explicit sex and graphic violence, when it’s necessary.

That, and making things dour and uncomfortable, before giving the world’s tiniest bit of hope in an ending of sudden optimism, before yanking it all away like a sick bully teasing a starving child.

Sorry, I guess, if it matters.

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