Some Days …

… ya just wanna burn it all down.


Calgon take me away, Jesus take the wheel, etc. etc.

On a GOOD note, I am a total of 5,550 words into my novel.

On a SLIGHTLY LESS GOOD note, that’s actually all outlining and character descriptions.  Mostly notes for myself.  I’m an outliner.  My brain is going so fast most times (INFJ, big picture stuff, not great with details), that it’s very hard to keep track of it all.

So, I outline.  List the characters, describe each one.  List the locations where the story will be taking place.  Tie in how the characters will meet/interact.  Get a basic structure down, and then fill in from there.

Like this guy:

The man.


Does Bob Ross paint the happy little trees first? Fuck no, he doesn’t.  Happy little trees come late in the game, people.  First is that miraculous broad brush stroke for the sky.  It’s all layering color on color.  Happy clouds first?  Fuck no, Bob Ross doesn’t do happy clouds first.  Light gently reflecting off the trees with photorealistic accuracy (Take that Thomas Kincaid and your MALL galleries), not first.

So I write like Bob Ross.  Broad brush strokes first, details in the appropriate order.

Also, I want an afro.


I am a walking, talking contradiction. INFJ, martial artist, father of 3 awesome boys, database nerd, aficionado of great music, coffee snob, tattooed, overflowing with at-times crippling amounts of empathy. Now you know me, which means we can never hang out. Sorry, but not really, I'd find an excuse not to no matter what.

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