Oh, my Achin' Noggin!

Forgive the dramatics, but my temporal lobe is making this wierd ticking noise and I swear I can feel my hair pulsing to the rythem of my heart. A is for Aneurysm-- the next popular Sue Grafton novel, available in September 2009! Reserve your copies today!

Not much new on the writing front today. I managed to review a few novel chapters on The Next Big Writer. I'm the middle of two great novels right now-- NANCY BOY and FEELS LIKE HOME. The first is literary, the second mainstream romance/suspense. Both are very well executed and the kind that keep you turning the page (or link). If you get a chance, drop in and check them out!

Other than that, all I've managed to write today is this miserable blog-drivel, that is sure to come back and haunt me some day when I hit the best-seller list and head out to tour Italy.

Some American tourist (evidenced by the fanny-pack, bottled water, and sensible shoes) will approach me while I stare at the Sistine Chapel and blurt, "Aren't you that writer woman? What is it that you wrote...Something that I tried to read but couldn't get past the first page?"

And I'll reply, "Oh, you mean (insert stellar book title)?"

And the shriveled up old hag will say, no that nonsensical rambling on the web-internet thingy...whatcha call it? A frog.. log...dog...cog?"

Enough said. I'm heading to bed while I still have a modicum of dignity left.

What Does it All Mean?

So, ye of expansive cyber-space... you may be wondering, what is the meaning behind this blog?

First, and assuredly most important, I am trying to motivate my sloth-ridden tail into writing again (more). You see, I've hit upon a case of acedia (ahh-see-dee-ahh: creative sloth, otherwise known as a "block".) And from where I sit, the natives in my noggin are getting restless.

Then there is my other reason, which is still self serving, though may offer up a bit of help to others out there like me-- I want to cronical my way to Writer-dom.

You probably need some back-story. In a nutshell, I've always been a closet writer-- making up stories in my head, tinkering with a poem here, a short-story there. You know, you have done it too.

A few years ago, I set about finding my writing niche. I wrote columns for several local papers, one of which made it to a pretty big state paper. I became the non-fiction editor of a writer-ly website. I became an editor of three sites on a Women-geared master site.

Column writing is good for me, and to be honest, blogging pretty much feels the same way. Cathartic.

Then I dabbled in fiction and poetry. I workshopped a good bit of my work, got some decent feedback and submitted a pitiful number of works to small lit mags and such. Suprisingly, I made my first sale ($10) without ever knowing how. One day I got a check in the mail for a pitiful erotic short story that I conjured up after too much tequila. What the hell, I cashed it, effectively selling my baby to a stranger.

My biggest accomplishment to date has been selling a story to a national magazine. Now, before you offer up congratulatory praise, I must tell you, the mag was a CONFESSIONAL type of mag. You know, the one with attention-grabbing headlines like: I sold my baby for $40, or I Ran My Husband Over with My Buick.

Kidding aside, I am proud of that sale. I got a decent little chunk of change and my story hit grocery stores everywhere. I know, it's no Pulitzer, but I've got to think of it as a baby step toward my goal of BEING a WRITER.

Thus, this blog has commenced. Somewhere between wanting to be a writer and being able to say I AM A WRITER (where you inevitably have to answer the question, "What have you published?" with something more substantial than saying "A few things.") there is a middle ground, a Literal Limbo.

I am there. Follow me while I weave my way from the depths of my creative purgatory!