The Writing Vulnerability
You know what a natural habitat for predators is? The indie publishing landscape. Yep. They’re after YOU. The predators will prey on your inexperience, exploit your naivety, and profit from your dreams. But you wouldn’t know any better, because predators aren’t vaudevillians. They don’t twirl handlebar moustaches and dress in black. They cloak their intentions with a smile, charm and seduce you with what you want to hear, and befriend you so that you couldn’t possibly imagine them ever wronging you. They will, however, if given the chance. And they exist in every facet of your writing journey. A Quick Aside on Rights and Royalties Self-publishing is a derivation of…
Contemporaneous: Chapters 77 – 79
77. I drive home, shaken, wondering how this has splashed back onto Autumn. There’s a cost to coming back. It’s happened repeatedly. Luca might say thought defines reality, and maybe I can extrapolate how my thinking has determined how each cycle has unfolded, but there was no line of thinking about this, about having Autumn forgetting me. This is punishment. It has to be. For taking my own life. This is purgatory. Surely. I try to squelch that thinking, because it’s fatalistic, and fatalism has got me in this mess. Each time I’ve tried to sort it out, I’ve found a new mess. Now I’d give everything up to fix…