The important thing is, I wrote every one of the last seven days. Some days I got close to the target, other days I just clipped the edges. But all of it was new words, progressing my current WIP. I didn’t even need to switch to another project. If I keep this up, I’ll have the first draft of a story done well before my 30-day deadline, with time left over to start a new one, or get back to the one that got stalled. Or work on both, at 500 words per day apiece. That should help keep things fresh and interesting.
Best of all, I haven’t touched the games in a week, either. The urge has faded, and I intend to stay busy enough so it’ll stay that way. I’ve got a story coming out in another week. If I can make that happen more often, I might be able to make a living at this.
Apparently not. I had a tiny following when I left Title Magic, and they moved on when I went dark for the last six or seven months. I need to get some attention here. Bring the readers in.
It might be time for some clickbait.
As any spoiled brat and/or teenager knows, the best way to get attention is to scream, rant, break stuff and do outrageous things. I can do outrageous. I’m a writer. I’ve got some ideas that are sure to offend some people, maybe even get me lynched in certain parts of the South. The Internet is a breeding ground for wackadoo, and our current political climate has made it even easier to be outrageous, insulting and even hateful and get away with it. As long as you’re a rich white male, that is.
Well, I’ve got the white part down. Maybe that’ll help.
So now it’s up to you folks. Visit my blog and I’ll stay semi-sweet and only mildly insulting. Next week I’ll be pimping a book, and the week after that I have a pre-written blog that I plan to post. If the stats haven’t changed by then, it’ll be time to get up on the soapbox and scream at the top of my lungs. Remember, I grew up on science fiction. My perceptions of reality have been warped.
I’m still waiting to see some 15-year-old kid lure the Prez into a flame war on Twitter. C’mon, you trolls. You know you’re dying to do it. Don’t let me down.