Okay… So I’m between books. When it’s all said and done, I finished three first drafts of novels this year.
“Finished” may be too strong a word. It’s more like two and two-thirds. Still, who’d complain about that? Anyway, it’s time to work on some shorts.
Here’s a story inspired by Will Smith’s fiftieth birthday.
What is it about writing that inherently sends authors toward a highrise window, screaming their heads off?! It’s a passion, a need, a purpose to create and be read by the masses. But when the words won’t come? Now that’s a big fuckin’ problem.