As of right now, the most recent scene I’ve written is the prologue for Subscription Life, and I have mixed feelings about it. It’s incomplete, in that it’s not as… girthy as I want it to be yet. I feel like it’s just skimming the surface of what it could, should, and eventually will be.

That is what editing is for, but I’m honestly not terribly satisfied with it. The main content is there, but it feels… thin. Translucent, like a veil that only kinda shows what’s underneath it. 
I’m not displeased by any means. I’m just not too particularly happy with it. 

The thing is, I’m finding out this is a regular tendency of mine, and it’s one very much at the forefront of my consciousness as the next big personal improvement project I’m going after. 
I don’t commit like I should.

I’m overly cautious, afraid to take real risks with things like I should, too afraid to fail or fall short. This goes for pretty much all my creative endeavors. I’m an okay singer, an okay actor and voice actor, an okay author.

And I’ve been stuck in that “okay” range, at least as far as I can tell, because I hold back because it’s safe. I need to push boundaries more. I need to be okay with failing and doing something again, trying again.

I don’t like rewriting. Even most of my edits are more about word choice and correction. I never really try writing bits of scenes again, and that honestly feels like a pretty big confession for me. Thing is, I KNOW I can do better. I am well aware some of my stuff is extremely bad or lacking. 

Pride is a funny thing, and I’ve both let it rule me and cast it aside arbitrarily in odd ways that don’t really make sense to me. At least I can say it’s not like I write things and want to be able to brag I get it right the first time. That’s a whole level of hubris I’ve never seen the draw of. No one’s perfect.

But I’ve accepted too far in the opposite direction. The okay. The bare minimum. I can do so much better. 

I want to take more of these risks. I want to improve. This is the only way I can, at this point. I need to stop being okay with just getting the idea out on paper and spend more time criticizing where I’ve played it safe as an artist.

I need to not be afraid of failing, of looking stupid or incapable, even if it’s only to myself. Because let’s face it, I’m the one I’m failing to please here. I’m not judging myself that way, but I am still allowing my own self-image to accept what’s not good enough for me. 

I deserve a better me. I want to be him. 

I’m gonna go reread that scene and really tear it apart.

UPDATE: After I initially wrote this blog post a week or two ago, I did go and straight up tried again at the prologue scene. Initial draft was around 1150 words. Second attempt was 1000 words more than that. I did reuse a few sentences I liked, but I tried to cut loose a bit more and really go for it. I have to say there was a marked difference. The new version is far more dynamic and interesting. I know I still can go further, but... yeah. This is the right direction!

Once again, this is not a first impression of this book. I’ve listened to it MANY times and it’s part of one of my favorite series.

Already up to book 4 of the Dungeon Crawler Carl series, and it wasn’t until a good halfway through that I figured out just what I wanted to discuss from a writerly standpoint on this novel.
Time skips. Missing out.

So, one of the big points of stories is to put the consumer in the middle of the action. We want immersion, to be the hero or villain as the mood strikes us, to feel the emotions, hear the sounds, experience the action. We want to be in the story, to know every bit of activity that's going on in the world around us.

That's why when something is left unknown, it's either a huge thorn in our sides, a tease, or a crime. It's why we see movie scenes where the villain tells his master plan, even just to a minion. It's why we get the cheap "We all know that" exposition dumps to put things into context, and it's why we as the consumer get to know things the protagonist might not know.

It's also why it's such a great tool to use to build tension and stress in your readers (or viewers or listeners). Having your readers not having all the information can be priceless, but it's a very fine line to cross. My mind goes to Sherlock Holmes, where there are tons of details the reader simply cannot know, but the characters (Holmes, in particular) do know. Part of the charm of Holmes stories is in the role the reader plays. We're the Watson, the observer, and we get to experience the same wonder at deduction as those around the detective. It's heavy handed missing out there, but it's for a purpose, and one that suits the genre.

Doing something like that in a fantasy story, banking on the reader's being woefully ignorant of crucial information, can be more harming than anything. So missing out is a tool to be used skillfully and sparingly, at least in general.

But when you miss out on events, when you're reading a book through the eyes of a character who has a finger in every pie... well, that's a situation where our own immersion works against us.

In The Gate of the Feral Gods, we have a big time skip. In the series, each floor of the dungeon only exists for a certain number of days. Because of that, every day is critical. Every hour is, even. It's time to figure out the first priority: getting down to the next floor. After that, it's crucial time to train, to grind, to work on bigger problems like keeping as many other humans alive as possible and breaking the system from within. You know, all that stuff.

So losing FIVE DAYS is a humongous blow. When a floor is only open for fifteen days, losing five of them is literally stealing a third of your time there. There's no way to get them back and no way to know exactly what happened in those hours. Sure, we hear bits and pieces of what happened, but it's literal time lost with no recovering. Just dealing with the loss and moving on.
The first time I listened to the book, I was talking about the loss with the friend who introduced me to the books. At the time, from an author standpoint, I wondered if the reason for such a theft of time was for a couple reasons:

1. The book was getting too long and needed trimming management

2. The actual content planned was thin and would have needed a lot of somewhat useless fluff to flesh out to the usual standard

3. The author had written himself into a corner on the plot points involved there and this was an easy out

That's meta-thinking there, like I said, from an author standpoint. What I neglected to think about at the time were the real stakes. I missed the trees because I was looking at the forest. The gaps Dinniman put there did a number of great things plotwise on several levels. It advanced the agency of many supporting characters. It upped the tension and urgency of Carl and Donut, who lost the time directly. The loss is reacted to and felt so suddenly, because it feels like no time passed. Like a coma or blackout. The time is just gone, for the reader, as well. Time becomes a commodity that can be stolen, just like anything else.

You know where else time becomes a rationed commodity this way? Interstellar.

It's the ticking clock, the looming deadline, and that's what Dinniman really ramps up in this book: that ticking clock. And he does it with a gut punch.

Don't be afraid to steal time from your readers or make them miss out. It can be useful just like any other technique. Practice at it. Make it hurt... but don't make it destroy too much.

GAH SHORT MONTH!!! I still got… a little done.

Short Story (working title “Recalled”) - No updates this month. Still at around 1800 words. Crap.

Criminal From Birth sequel - Still with editor. I need to light a fire under their butt. I might have a title though.

LitRPG book (working title Subscription Life) - I HAVE STARTED WRITING! It’s not much yet, but here’s what I have:

I wrote the first scene of the prologue and had it at about 1150 words. In an upcoming free post, I’ll actually talk about that. Long story short, I wrote it again and it came out to 2144 words. So for me, it’s not a lot, but for what I’ve been cranking out lately, it’s a ton, and I’m very happy with it!

​It’s time I was forthright about what’s going on. 

I’m struggling, but determined.

The fact of things right now is that I’m very much a creature of routine and, sadly, I’ve been trying and failing to build one for some months now. One of the biggest problems is that I currently have too much freedom— too much free time— that I can’t seem to make writing take up a lot of that time.

Let me explain. For years, during the highest-productivity eras of my writing career, I have made words regularly, religiously, and well, but that was largely because I was… sort of stealing the time for them. Customer-facing jobs (like the 3 years I worked at as a bank teller) and administrative office positions had me away from comfort and freedom for determined hours of each day. I mean, that’s the nature of a full-time job. Thing is, while in those jobs, I took pleasure in stealing minutes when I could and jotting down sentences or paragraphs. I had one call center monitoring job for a few years that was very low-interaction. We really only “did” anything when there was an issue. It was during that job in particular that the ENTIRE Deadly Studies series was written and published. I pretty literally didn’t have anything else to do, so I wrote. I could pretty much devote at least 10 hours a week to writing. It made me look industrious, typing away. 

You know, the whole corporate “keep your head down” form of working.

Since the combination of burnout and covid work-from-home, I lost both the drive to write and the sort of office-imprisonment excuse to write that much. Now, the burnout is gone, but I’m very much out of practice in sitting and focusing on writing. Or even the stop/start nature of stealing time I used to be so very good at.

Being aware of these issues is a start. I’ve been straining against the inactivity for a while now, especially in the month since I stopped working at the game store I was at, which gave me a bit of the same reliable routine. I was doing all right with these blog posts and everything.

That’s dried up, and I’ve been treading water, barely scraping by, particularly with these free posts. Yes, I have plenty of ideas, but weekly free posts, even as short as these are, is a drain that… should be one. This should be easy, especially since I try to keep them fairly short.

I’m not venting all this to engender pity, or to make it an excuse to cut back on frequency. I really don’t want to do that. But the fact of the matter is that even with my paid content, the vast majority is older material. Even the sequel to Criminal From Birth is material I wrote years ago finally getting attention. Yes, it’s been an editing project, but I’m not putting new words down as much as I’d like, and I am trying to put this out there as a way to make myself accountable. To brainstorm with myself on how I can get that desired productivity back.

Because when I do manage to sit and write words, I feel like I’m writing better than ever. I just… don’t have the metaphorical vice on me making it the primary option of passing time. 

So I just really need to convince myself somehow that writing is the best way to use so much of the time I have available.

To be fair, it does fight with chainmail and string art crafting. I’ve already acknowledged to myself that distractions are an issue, but… I know I can fight those. I’ve been lazy on that front, and I’m putting a lot of effort into pulling away from those bad habits.

This is really only a matter of needing to put more effort into sitting down and making the words. Not when it’s convenient, because there are a lot of convenient time. Just… when I choose to do something time-wasty, I need to reinvestigate my own motives and choices and priorities.

I have so many stories to tell. I need to stop giving myself the bare minimum. I can do better.

For you, my dear readers, and for myself. 

Your patience and understanding, your love, mean so much. I appreciate you more than you know. Shooting for success. Not perfection.

I haven’t been to any writing conferences, but I’ve been to conventions where one of the things I was focused on was writing. For something like 7 years, I was a regular attendee of Balticon. During these years, I became very involved in the New Media track, which was a lot of indie authors, podcasters, and voice actors.

For a number of reasons, I haven’t attended a Balticon since 2019. I miss it very much, but there has been a great shift in my life’s focus since then, and it’s simply not in the cards for me anymore. One of the main reasons is that I no longer run The Melting Potcast, the podcast I did for 5 years with my best friends. It was a writing variety show and still exists out in the aether. Go give it a listen if you’re so inclined.

At this point, it’s been almost seven years since I’ve been to a Balticon, since I’ve so thoroughly surrounded myself with other authors for any significant period of time. I don’t remember a whole lot of details about any specific interactions. I do remember highlights, so I think I’ll dedicate the rest of this post to some of the lasting things I picked up or remember from my author friends and from doing The Potcast. This may be a bit disjointed, but let’s go with the sort of stream of consciousness stuff, shall we?

• If you’re writing genre fiction, or if you’re doing any sort of worldbuilding, consider trade routes and food sources. I attended a fantastic seminar one year about cooking in fantasy, but from the point of view of the actual cooks. Where do your ingredients come from? Would a cold, mountainous region have easy access to honey (not likely) or would they have to import it? Your desert people wouldn’t eat a lot of fish, would they? I think my favorite part of the seminar was when the speaker challenged authors in the audience to come up with a modern recipe, something simple like spaghetti and meatballs, and figure out how one of your cultures would make it. Even down to the water the pasta was boiled in. People really got creative with how they would modify the recipe to suit the available foodstuffs, like yak’s milk or unusual sources for things like starches and vegetables.
• There is a wild amount of value in reading your work aloud. It’s a powerful tool to use in editing, especially when it’s a mechanical/technique edit. It helps find words and phrases that don’t flow well or read awkwardly. You can identify sentences and thoughts that carry on for too long. Hell, reading aloud even helps pick out typos, if you want to use it for that, as well.
• Even the author with the smallest library can have a die-hard fan. 
• Some of the most amazing bits of advice come from random discussions around a fire.
• Give 30 people the same writing idea, and you’ll get at least 30 completely different stories. This was actually one of the founding ideas behind The Melting Potcast. We offered writing prompts and accepted flash fiction submissions based on them. Then we’d showcase 2-3 stories for the same prompt in an episode. A few different interpretations of the same idea. It was truly amazing to experience while doing it.
• Some mistakes are great ideas in disguise. Or at least they can be mildly amusing.

​I’ve kind of talked about this in the past, but I think it’s largely been in other media, so let’s go ahead and discuss it here.

For me, there are two forms of writer’s block: the plot-block, and functional.

The plot-block has been the hardest for me to find ways to overcome. Sadly, it’s also the form I have the most history with. I’ve spoken in the past about the differences in my productivity before and after 2009, when I finally started outlining things. In short, outlining has made it a lot more likely that I’ll finish a project as opposed to starting it and then just… not finishing. Outlining lets me find all the major and medium snags in story prep and planning. I don’t get into serious small details, but anything that might derail the major plot or some medium subplots and all, I can confront in this planning stage rather than writing myself into a corner.

But… just because I’m outlining doesn’t mean these snags don’t crop up. Of course they do. Discovering them in the outlining phase rather than while actively engaged in writing really helps make problems like these more manageable. I’m not losing writing time by struggling to think where to go next. I don’t fall out of the zone or vibe or rhythm of writing because I lack signposts. The outlining gives me signposts, a map to follow. 

So what do I do when developing that map and coming across a plot snag?

My favorite technique is one I read about some years ago randomly online. I wish I could reference the original article, but the fact is I haven’t been able to find it. In short, it was a (current or former) Pixar writer who gave me this tool:

When you can’t figure out what happens, figure out what doesn’t happen instead.

Here’s how it works for me. I get pencil and paper or open another blank text document. The format doesn’t matter, but for me, I need there to be a visual representation to help mark the productivity. If you don’t need it, great. But for me, it’s necessary. This new document is going to be a mental declutter list. 

When I say figure out what doesn’t happen, I mean anything and everything. Say the plot you’re stuck in is about how a trapped character escapes their captivity. But now you’re stuck, almost paralyzed trying to figure out how to dig yourself and your character out of the problem you’ve put them in. 

I just start listing things. They don’t even have to make sense. But list anything that comes to mind and discard it as “not gonna happen.” Aliens don’t come and break him out. He doesn’t find a magical sword to cut his bonds. His god doesn’t appear to him. The magic gem he has doesn’t summon a genie…

Wait… he had a magic gem?! That’s right, maybe I can find a way to use that! Maybe it DOES summon a genie!

I’ve had the answer come that quickly before. I’ve had times where I’m writing random shit down for the better part of an hour, and then something just clicks. Thing is, I have yet to have this not work when I’m in a bind. 

What’s happening (at least for me) is what I’ve said before: decluttering. By actually writing down what doesn’t happen, I’m thinking of ideas but actually removing them from my head through the act of writing/typing them out. This way, those random fragments of ideas that don’t work aren’t just bouncing around in my brain anymore. The cleared space makes room for new ideas to form. But by doing random not-important creativity, I’m activating that portion of the brain, putting it to work to come up with bad ideas. And they inevitably make way for the right ideas to start happening. Sometimes, I’ll remember a detail from earlier planning that just seems to fit (like the gem/genie idea I made up) or I’ll just come up with something else entirely that can solve the problem… but then I realize that just came out of nowhere. But this ties back into outlining. Now that I know I’ll need that solution, I can much more easily backtrack in the outline and seed this new resolution, rather than going back and rewriting a first draft. I haven’t even written any of that yet. So easy to note [DETAILS NEEDED ABOUT THIS ITEM] or whatever the result is.

Give it a try next time you’re stuck or just want to find something unusual to get out of a situation. It helps come up with different options, even when you’re not stuck or blocked.

Functional block is the more frustrating one. And I’m really using that as a sort of blanket term to cover all the sort of normal perceptions of writer’s block, anything that keeps you in a state of just not being able to get words onto the page. I’ll also include burnout in this category, but I’ll talk about that kind of separately.

Functional writer’s block in general I can usually combat by just working on a different project than whichever one I’m stuck on. I bust out a writing exercise, a short story, or something else that activates the same portion of my brain, but maybe uses a different track of it. Like… think of the brain as one of those soda fountains with different flavors that all use the same spigot. Yeah, I need Mountain Dew, but that’s out of syrup. Doesn’t mean I can’t get the strawberry Sprite to pour! It can be stream of consciousness, a writing prompt, an exercise, another project, anything! Heck, sometimes I even resort to a different craft: making something with my hands, dancing in my kitchen, whatever.

Usually, that’s enough for me. Spend enough time on other things, but still creatively, and the urge, drive, or inspiration to get back to that “main” project usually comes back along. If not… well, sometimes you do need to abandon projects. At least I’ve still been productive on other things in the meantime. 

If that doesn’t work, then we go to our last tool (that I have currently). Sadly, this is also the only tool I’ve found that will always defeat burnout in the end. 

That activity is… give it time. 

As much as I spend my life waiting, sometimes that’s literally all there is to do when something is causing you to struggle. I’ve talked before about my own burnout. Still, here’s the story and how time was all I could make work for me.

I spent three or four years mired in a self-imposed schedule to get the entire Deadly Studies series of novellas off the ground. Originally, it was planned to be 7 novellas, but it turned into 10 due to plot expansions to tie it in with its parent series, The Statford Chronicle. I pushed myself hard for those few years, planning the series and then writing, editing, and releasing each novella rapidly. I was basically releasing one every 3-4 months for a few years until they were finished.

The last one came out in September 2019. The final volume, containing novellas 6-10, came out in January 2020.

And I couldn’t write shit after that. I let myself take a break because I was exhausted, but… once COVID-19 hit and I suddenly had a lot more time to do things due to quarantine, I couldn’t make writing happen again. I tried editing some short stories to fit them together into a more cohesive collection so I could release an anthology, and it seemed to be going well. Until I realized I needed to write a few more stories to tie everything together, and the idea just kind of fizzled after a few paragraphs. 

I gave myself more time. By mid 2021 I was working on editing/updating a sci-fi trilogy I already had written. I even got through the first book (this was my fourth draft that needed serious restructure) and it was fine. But book 2, ready for its third draft and restructure, never quite got off the ground. And I haven’t even looked at book 3, which is still in its first draft state. By 2022, I’d sort of let that peter out. I hadn’t written anything new in 2 years and… at this point, I’d already gone through a lot of existential crisis thoughts about maybe I’d completely burned myself out. Maybe The Deadly Studies was it for me, and I’d ruined my writing brain. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d overworked myself into destruction. I don’t compose or play music anymore because I burned myself outt oo hard in college. 

By the end of 2022, I had finally made peace with the possibility of never writing again. 2023 came and went, and 2024 started.

A few months into 2024, an idea came to me out of nowhere, and I started writing an outline. It was easy, and the ideas were good. Better than anything I remembered doing before the burnout. I found myself in tears more than once, relieved that after basically 5 years of not really writing (at best, proofing, revising), I was suddenly creating from nothing again.

Enter 2025 and… well, this website blog and my Patreon stand as proof that I’m writing again. I’m still writing. I tried forcing my way through the burnout, but it was not rewarding. 

I might never have come back to writing. Like I said, I made peace with the possibility of never writing again, but it was a good three years before I even got to that point. Three years of mourning what I’d been able to do so recently, not knowing if I’d be able to repeat what I’ve done before. And then at least another year of it basically falling off my radar. Writing became something I’d done and that I hoped to do again one day, but… I no longer felt like I was less for not being able to do it in the moment. It was a struggle, but not one I couldn’t live with.

It was a magnificent day when the block finally eroded and let my brainriver flow again.

But in short, I have not found any way to force-overcome writer’s block. In any form. You can work around it sometimes, but sometimes the only cure is to wait it out. Patience is a virtue, and sometimes it’s the most powerful tool we have. 

​Once again, this is not a first impression of this book. I’ve listened to it MANY times and it’s part of one of my favorite series.

So, DCC book 3, The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook. 
This is by far one of the most confusing books I’ve ever read, but the amazing thing is, I don’t care. I’ve listened to this book probably going on 10 times at this point, and I still only maybe halfway understand the mechanics of it.
​
But that’s kind of the point, and it’s what I’m going to focus on for this review.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. They say art is amazing because everyone experiences and interprets it differently. Those sayings could not be more true that when you inspect the Iron Tangle. So, a little context, without getting spoilery. This floor of the dungeon has its own unique theme, one that in story context they say is ambitious and unlike anything done before. 

Trains. A massive network of trains and train stations. Doesn’t sound so bad, right? Well, if you’ve ever navigated a metropolitan mass transit system, you’re maybe prepared for like 10% of what this floor has to offer. The Tangle is exactly what it is named: a tangle. There are hundreds (if not thousands) of train lines and a ridiculous number of train stations. Monsters ride the rails. Some trains only go on one-way trips. Some are on looped tracks. The characters have a whole thing going on most of the book trying to figure out where they want to go and then how to even get to where they want to be. It’s a total mindfuck to try and sort out and… Dinniman doesn’t care, in the best way.

He’s managed to write an entire book set in a place no one really understands. At least, no reader does. The point of a lot of the setup is that the layout makes sense to people in the DCC greater universe because it’s based on the context of things they’re familiar with but we simple Earthlings aren’t. We haven’t been exposed to a lot of the everyday technology, culture, and possibilities of the universe in the book series. We literally lack the context needed to interpret the art of this floor of the dungeon.

And that is what makes me, as a writer, admire what Dinniman has done. Not only has he created something completely alien, he has gotten across that it makes sense to aliens but not to us. The book actually has a disclaimer saying it’s really best not to try to understand the Iron Tangle.

It’s like a masterclass in bullshitting, when you get right down and think about it. I mean, to be totally honest, fiction writers/storytellers are nothing but professional bullshitters. I say that as a novelist and collaborative storyteller (read: tabletop RPG Game Master.) The whole job is to make up entertaining or poignant bullshit and make it look intentional. 

I don’t know if that’s something Dinniman really set out to do, or if he lucked into it, or what. Whatever the reason for the Iron Tangle being the affront to Earth logic the way it is, he did a great job bringing the characters along to understand their surroundings while still making it a challenge for the reader to make much sense out of it. It doesn’t help we pretty much cannot have a visual representation of it, mostly due to scale and a piece of huge context we get about it late in the book. The key to cracking it, so to speak. I’m sure someone, somewhere could make a real valid visual of it, but I absolutely would never take that kind of thing on myself.

This is a book where you really do just sort of need to let the setting wash over you. Everything else Dinniman has established so far in the series is still present and still at the forefront. The people are first and foremost. Their relationships, arcs, their fallings out, it’s all there. A lot of great interpersonal drama happens this book, and not always involving the characters you think will be involved.

It’s not even my least favorite DCC book, despite the confusion inherent in the level itself. Maybe it’s my inability to actually visualize stuff in my mind anyway that lets me brush off the frustration of trying to imagine the Tangle. Maybe not. Either way, always a good read or listen, this one. 

2026 came out swinging, and I wasn’t able to get a lot done on writing because… well, I’ve already talked about it. The Chain Nerd is taking some major priority. That said, here’s where we are as of the beginning of February:
​
D&D Single Adventure - I’m going to pull this from the list. As much as I want it to be a priority, it can’t be right now. I may pick on it sometimes as I get the drive. If I finish it, you’ll know.

Short Story (working title “Recalled”) - No updates this month. Still at around 1800 words. Crap.

Criminal From Birth sequel - Still with editor. I need to light a fire under their butt.

LitRPG book (working title Subscription Life) - THIS IS WHERE THINGS GET EXCITING! I HAVE A FINISHED OUTLINE!

Okay, let me clarify. I have the first draft of a finished outline. What I figured out in the last few chapters adds a new layer of information I’ll need to seed in the first 1/3 or so of the book, so I’m updating the outline to make sure the flow of that story arc, but this is much easier work than straight blank outlining.

First outline draft: 56 chapters (up 21 from last month)

(Hopefully) final outline: 21 chapters (YES, I DID 42 CHAPTERS TOTAL)

This goes pretty quick since I’m just updating the info I already have. It’s more like editing. But once this is done (hopefully this month) I get to start WRITING THE BOOK!
​

This week's free post is... another of those where I just sort of talk. There have been some rather insane new developments in a portion of my life that I did not expect, though I did hope for it. Just not this soon or this suddenly.

It's regarding The Chain Nerd, the chainmail crafting business I've been at with my best friend Erin for going on 11 years.

Long story short, there are opportunities coming up starting this year that... are going to have a major impact on my schedule. Thanks to some amazing connections, networking, and our own stubborn work ethics, we are more than doubling the number of conventions we're vending at this year. In fact, we're going to more conventions this year than we have from 2023-2025 COMBINED. And these are not all small conventions, either. We'll be at 6-7 larger conventions, and any one of them are larger than most others we do... combined.

This is a massive shot in the arm for us, with the possibility of contracted appearances in upcoming years.

This is a big deal.

As a result, a lot of my time is now going to be devoted to managing The Chain Nerd's inventory, and since everything we make is hand-made, it means a lot more hours with pliers in my hands, rather than at a keyboard.

Don't misunderstand me. I'm not giving up writing. Not now that I finally got it back.

What it does mean is that... things may slow down here a bit. I don't want it to, but my life is adjusting to a lot right now, and while I want to keep every juggling ball aloft, I am only one man with two arms. Some of the projects I've been working on, like my D&D one-shots, might be shelved for the foreseeable future, just because that's needing to take a backseat. I plan to focus on my next novel and try to whip out short or flash fiction as the inspiration takes, but I cannot make any promises. Honestly, the free blog posts are one of the bigger annoyances of this but... I don't want to stop doing those either.

In other words, I'm not going anywhere, but... I may be a bit strained. I'll communicate as much as I can, and I absolutely am floored by all the support from my friends, fans, and family.

Keep reading, and I'll be weaving and writing.

This sort of question comes up a lot in writing groups and discussions. The answer is simple, but pretty much always the same.
​
Write. Just write.

It seems so trite and unhelpful. But it really is that simple. Like any skill, it takes time and practice to get any good, and with writing, that’s literally just making words.

Just write.

You’re going to make mistakes. Everything at every level, from the sentence structure to the meta analysis of the plot, is gonna suck. But you can’t let that stop you. It’s the same for every skill you want to learn. It’s going to start rough and ugly. It’s going to be messy. It’ll not make sense, there will be plot holes. You’ll reuse phrases and overuse words and retell the same thing in different ways and reword the same concept and go over the same details until it’s overdone. You’ll put details on the wrong things and underemphasize what’s important.

But you’ll learn from those things.

Just write.

There’s no point in worrying about agents, publishing deals, or royalties until something’s actually written. Even editing isn’t something you can worry about until you have words on a page.

Just write.

Sure, there’s plenty else to do. Study writing. Read widely.

But nothing is going to come from your desire to tell a story unless you’re actually doing the work.

Just.

Write.