I have been reading since about the fifth grade. I know this is kind of late and sad by todays standards of forcing the little ones to read by kindergarten, but those were different times. My first real book was Charlotte’s Web. We all got a laugh out of the farmer putting his knee to Wilber’s behind to get him to move. It was a couple of years before I really started reading a lot of stuff of my own choosing. A teacher gave me a stack of old sci-fi magazines and I was hooked for life. There was everything…
Out of the Nowhere
One of my heroes is a curmudgeonly fellow named Harlan Ellison. He is famous for ranting and raving and occasionally writing some pretty damned good sci fi, or SF as he might prefer it to be called. Once upon a time he was on about Video Games. He called them time sinks, said they were a waste of time, that you could be doing something, anything, better than playing video games. There is that feeling about blogs as well.And yet.Nothing pains the writer so much as never being published. As never seeing a byline or buying up all the copies…
Here we go again
I have started and deleted a couple of blogs now. There is an odd kind of satisfaction that comes from writing something and then making it go away. It’s that feeling all writers share. In the good old days this was best expressed with a wastepaper basket surrounded by crumpled paper. Of course, no one write on a manual typewriter any more, do they? Well, if they do, is it at all likely that they read blogs in their spare time? Anyway, here I am, at the start again. A clean slate, a blank book waiting to be filled. It…