Category: advice

June 22, 2017

In This Club We Have One Rule…

            I wanted to talk about writing advice a bit.  The good stuff and the bad stuff.  I just did a few months ago, yeah, but this is a little different. 
            This time, I want to talk with you about taking those words to heart… or not.
            Here’s an ugly truth about writing advice. 
            I’d guess a good 40% of it is just people telling you what worked for them.  Here’s how I do characters, here’s how I do dialogue, here’s how I plot, here’s how I write fifty pages a week.  There’s nothing inherently wrong with this advice—it clearly worked for that particular professional.  It’s just a presentation problem.  It assumes every writer and project is like every other writer and project.
            Still, that’s better than the 50% of people who are bellowing advice that hasn’tworked for them.  The only thing sketchier than someone  with a lot of credits insisting “this is how it’s done” is somebody with no credits insisting “this is how it’s done.”  Or somebody who had a credit twenty-five years ago.
            What? A twenty-five year old credit should still count?  I mean, on one level I agree with you—it’s a credit.  But it’s a credit from another era.  Seriously.  Johannes Guttenberg may be the father of printing, but he’s not going to be much help if my Brother 5-in-1 gets a paper jam.
            Let me put it in these terms.  Let’s say we were talking about computers. Let’s say I knew someone who’d been a kinda-known name in computers twenty-five years ago. And hadn’t really done anything since.  How seriously would you take their advice about computer engineering?  Or programming?  Or breaking into the industry?
            Actually, I take it back. There’s one thing worse than somebody with no credits insisting “this is how it’s done.”   It’s when somebody with no credits wants money to tell you “this is how it’s done.”
            Anyway, that leaves us with, what… 10%, roughly?  Math isn’t my thing.  What’s that last ten percent of advice?
            You’ve probably seen it. It’s the folks saying “try this.”  Or maybe they’re a couple of provisos before or after their statements.  I’ve mentioned the idea of this here a few times.  It’s called the Golden Rule.
            No, not that Golden Rule. I made this one up.  The Golden Rule is one of the core things I try to put out with all the writing advice I offer here.  It goes something like this.
What works for me probably won’t work for you.
And it definitely won’t work for that guy.
            You see, writing is a very personal thing.  In the same way I can’t say “urban fantasy is the best genre,” I also can’t say “writing 500 words before lunch every day and another 500 words after is the key to success.”  Because it’s not. 
            Oh, it might be for some people, sure, but it isn’t for everybody.  There are people who write in the afternoon.  There are people who only write in the morning.  Some like massive outlines, some like very minimal ones.  If you ask a dozen different writers how to do something—anything—you’re going to get a dozen different answers.  Because we’ve all found what works for us.  That’s the golden rule.
            There’s a joke I’ve used  a couple times to explain this.  If the only time you can write is Sunday afternoons, and the only way you can write is standing on your head, wearing that “enhancing” corset you bought at the Ren Faire last summer, using voice-recognition software, but doing this lets you write 15,000 words…
            Well, that’s fantastic.  Seriously.  I know professional, full-time writers who don’t always get 15,000 words down a week.  I can maybe hit those numbers once a month.  If that’s what it takes for you to do it, and you can do it consistently—power to you!
            See, at the end of the day, how I write my book doesn’t matter.  Perhaps I write first thing in the morning or maybe late into the night.  I could work exclusively on a laptop, on my phone, on a typewriter, or on yellow legal pads with a #2 pencil.  Maybe I reward myself after every thousand words with half an hour of reading, a video game, twenty minutes of exercise, booze, sex, whatever.  Do I do one long, constantly reworked draft or two dozen drafts each with a few minute, specific changes?
            However I do it, that part of writing doesn’t matter.  As long as I’m working, I’m doing fine.  People can insist whatever they want, but at the end of the day it always comes down to the golden rule.

What works for me probably won’t work for you.
And it definitely won’t work for that guy.

             I don’t write books the way Victoria Schwab does.  She doesn’t write books the way Andy Weir does.  Andy doesn’t write like Sarah Kuhn.  Sarah doesn’t write like Chuck Wendig.  He doesn’t write the same way as Kristi Charish.  And she doesn’t write like me.

            And none of us write like you. We don’t have your habits, your preferences, your thoughts, your goals.  We’re not telling your story your way.
            Which is why you shouldn’t worry about writing like us. Sift through all the hints and tips.   Learn which ones do and don’t work for you.  Don’t worry if four of the six people above do X, find out if X works for you.  Find your way to write.
            And if your way happens to involve a corset… hey, who am I to judge?
            Next time… I want to talk about babies.  I hate those guys.
            Until then… go write.
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March 16, 2017 / 4 Comments

Our Aluminum Anniversary Post

            So very sorry I missed last week.  There were copyedits.  I got about 3/4 of a post done in my spare time, but I was never quite happy with it, and then last Thursday was here and gone.
            And now here’s Thursday again.
            As it turns out, though, this turned out to be a fantastic bit of lucky timing.
            This, my friends-students-lurkers-haters-et al, is the 400th post here on the ranty blog.  Yep.  Four.  Hundred.  I know that doesn’t really mean much, in the big scheme of things.  There are some folks who post way, way more frequently than I ever will.
            Still, though… that’s a lot of random writing rules and advice I’ve been spouting out over the years.  Granted, there were a couple of amusing pictures mixed in there, plus I’ve revisited the same topic a few times, but…c’mon, it’s a pretty cool milestone.
            Okay, fine. You’re not impressed.  How about this, then…
            Sunday, it’ll be ten years since I first started said ranty blog.
            TEN. YEARS.
            To put that in perspective, the first Iron Man movie, the one that kicked off the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe?  That was nine years ago.  Ten years ago nobody’d heard of Breaking Bad or Fifty Shades of Grey.  Hell, ten years ago nobody’d ever heard of Sarah Palin.
            To be honest, nobody’d ever heard of me, either.
            Probably also worth mentioning there’ve been a little over 770 comments posted here in that time. So many thanks to all of you who’ve stumbled across this pile of rants. It’s always nice to know I’m not shouting into the void.
            Ten years.
            This revamp’s long overdue, yes?  Blogger’s overhauled many of its formats. A lot more of you are reading this on tablets or smartphones (something else that would’ve been a mystery ten years ago).  This whole page could be a lot more mobile-friendly.
            Plus, let’s be honest. I’m ten years older. Some of you are, too.  Most of you are going to be.  The white-text-on-black setup wasn’t helping anyone.
            Soooooooo… Whadda you think?
            Okay, talk about that down in the comments. Since we’re looking at a big momentous anniversary (and did anyone get me an aluminum ring?  No!) and I’ve been doing the Writers Coffeehouse for over a year now, I wanted to be clear on something.  I’ve kind of talked about this on and off, but it struck me it might be worth saying in really clear, absolute terms.
            I am not a writing guru. 
            Hell, forget guru, I’m not much of a writing teacher.  I’m barely a writing adviser.  Most of the Coffeehouse folks can vouch for this.  At best, I’m kind of the old writing hermit up in the hills.  You can ask me questions and I’ll shake my fist and shout some kind of answer, but I’d guess at least half the time my answer won’t work for you.  Probably closer to 2/3 of the time.
            That’s the Golden Rule I’ve mentioned here once or thrice.  Writing is a very individual, very personal process. What works for me might not work for you. It definitely won’t work for him.
            So… how is that different from being a guru?
            Well, because I’m admitting it might not work.  Not for everyone.  I’m telling you that up front.  There is no “right” way to do this.  At best, we can pin down some methods that work better than others and a few more that are more likely to hinder than help.  But past that…
          Okay, I’m going to tell you a really old, really stupid joke.  I apologize in advance, but it’s kind of important.  Ready?
            A man goes to the doctor’s office.  He holds his arm out, rotates it counter-clockwise at the shoulder, and says “Doc, it hurts like hell whenever I do this.” 
            The doctor looks at him, shrugs, and says “Don’t do that.  That’ll be twenty dollars.”
            Yep, twenty dollars for a doctor’s visit.  Told you it was an old joke.

           Now, on a basic level, the doctor has taken care of the patient’s problem.  And it’s kind of a win-win for the doctor.  If the man keeps doing it and the pain persists, he’s going against the doctor’s orders and the doc was right telling him to stop.  If he doesn’t do it and there’s no pain, then the doctor was right telling him to stop.

            The catch here, of course, is that the doctor hasn’t actually done anything.  And that’s how a lot of gurus operate.  They know how tough it can be to succeed in this business, so they charge a lot of money and offer foolproof advice.  Foolproof in the sense of it can’t fail, because the advice is not to do anything.
            I used to see this mentality in the film industry a lot.  A script will normally go through what they call “clearance.”  It’s when a lawyer or legal assistant goes through the screenplay looking for possible legal issues, usually with names, addresses, and prominently mentioned items.  Is this character name common, or is there only one person with this namein that city?  Should someone bitch and complain about Microsoft products by name on screen?  The clearance people are supposed to do some research and then give everything a thumbs down (because you might get sued) or a thumbs up (you’re in the clear).
            Guess what, though?  About nineteen times out of twenty, they just say don’t do it.  Don’t use that name, don’t mention that product, don’t refer to that person.  No matter what it is, you might get sued, so don’t use it. 
            Y’see, Timmy, if I tell you not to do something and you don’t, there’s no problem—I was right.  If I tell you not to do it, you do anyway, and nothing happens, then you were lucky—and I was right.  If I tell you not to do it, you do anyway, and  you get sued… well, I told you not to do it.  It’s not my fault.  No matter what the actual outcome is, by saying no, I’m always correct. 
            This is what I see overwhelmingly from gurus (both prose and screenwriting).  Rather than actually teach anything, far too many of them just give lists of what not to do.  Don’t do flashbacks. Don’t use passive voice.  Don’t take too long to introduce characters.   Don’t have your inciting incident any later than page nineteen.  Don’t use “we see.” Don’t use “said.”  Don’t do voiceover in scripts.
            And, again, they’re never wrong, because saying no is always correct.
            On the other hand, I try to explain how these things work. Of course you can use flashbacks.  Introduce characterswhenever it’s appropriate for your individual story.  And please, please, please try to use “said” morethan any other dialogue descriptor. These devices wouldn’t exist if they didn’t work—they would’ve died out centuries ago. Actual centuries.  It’s just easier and quicker to say “don’t use them” then it is to explain how to use them correctly.
            Especially if said guru doesn’t know how to use them correctly.
            There’s another way I’m different from a guru.  I have actual, recent experience.  Not references or testimonials—experience.  I honestly can’t tell you the number of self-proclaimed experts I’ve seen who haven’t had a single sale in their chosen industry in years.  Assuming they’ve ever even had a sale.  One of my favorites was a “script doctor” I’d never, ever heard of (keeping in mind, I worked in the film industry for fifteen years and then reported on it for another five) who assured would-be clients that he’d worked on lots and lots of big box office films… none of which he was allowed to name for confidentiality reasons. 
            Remember, real professionals don’t have testimonials—they have credits. Recent credits.  Every industry changes over time.  Publishing, filmmaking, programming, farming—all of them.  The longer it’s been since I’ve done something, the less likely it is that my knowledge of said industry is any good.  You might remember a couple weeks back I mentioned I wasn’t going to offer screenplay advice anymore because it’d been a while since I actively did anything in the film industry.  I don’t want to mislead anyone with out-of-date advice about how to put a screenplay together. 
            Yeah, there are still format posts here if anyone wanted to go digging (look, here’s one), but it’s also clear these aren’t current.  So I’m going off the basic assumption that if someone finds their way here, they’re smart enough to think twice before blindly following something from a year ago.
            I mean, let’s just approach this logically.  If Wakko really knows how to write a novel that publishers will pay half a million for… why is he nickel-and diming you and me? Why are we paying him $500 for a three-day weekend course when a film studio might give him $750,000—plus residuals?
            Don’t get me wrong.  There are a bunch of very talented, very experienced people out there offering writing advice and asking for a couple of bucks.  I personally know at least half a dozen writers who’ve put out books of writing tips and advice.  I’ve toyed with the idea myself.  But, again, they’re all professionals.  Offering writing advice is a side business, not their primary one. 
            Which is, y’know… writing.
            And that brings me to my last point.  It’s not a hard fast rule, but I’d say it’s a pretty solid rule of thumb.  Most of the professionals who offer writing advice… just offer it.  They don’t want a huge amount of cash up front. They’re not asking $85 for a self-published textbook.
            The reason for this is pretty simple.  The vast majority of us who’ve made it up here to the top half of the ladder only got here because we got help and encouragement from other professionals along the way.  I can look back and know I only made it here because of advice and tips I got from several writing professionals along the way, almost all of whom gave me that advice for free (one was a college professor—and a two-time Pen/Faulkner winner with nine books to his name at that point).
            The question I need to ask myself is… is that big pile of don’ts from somebody with no experience worth $650?  Or maybe a grand?  Hell, is it even worth fifty bucks?
            And that’s why I’m not a guru.
            And it’s part of the reason I’ve been writing out suggestions and tips and not-so-gentle nudges here for the past ten years.
            Again, thanks for being here.
            Next time, I’ll probably prattle about words, like I said I was going to do last week. Or maybe I’ll talk about this really cute foreign exchange student I knew in college. One of those things.
            Until then… go write.
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January 5, 2017

Here We Go Again…

            Hope you had a fantastic New Year, everyone.  Welcome to 2017.  Or, as history will probably call it, America’s make-or-break year.
            As I often do at the start of each year, I wanted to blab on for a minute or three about what I hope to accomplish with this little collection of rants and ravings.  And I think one of the best ways to accomplish that is to start off by telling a quick story…
            Another friend of mine—a very accomplished professional writer—talks about some advice he got once from Richard Matheson.  To paraphrase, writing is an art.  Publishingis the business of selling as many copies of that art as possible.  If I want to be a successful writer, I need to understand that difference.
            What does that have to do with my rants?
            This page isn’t about “when you’re done.”  I’m always coming across pages and groups where people want to know what to do with their finished manuscript.  How do I get an agent?  How do I promote myself?  How do I get a publisher?  Should I self-publish?  Should I be networking more?  How do I get blurbs?
            None of that here.  That’s all publishing stuff.
            Not to sound harsh, but this page also isn’t for inspirational ideas, mindless encouragement, or a joyous celebration of art.  I’m not really big on the we-can-all-succeed mindset (I used to say “special snowflake,” but that’s become a stupider, crueler term lately, so I don’t feel very comfortable with it anymore).  I’m also not a fan of those folks who see writing as some bohemian form of expression where there are no wrong answers or directions.  If that’s the kind of “advice” you’re looking for… wow, this is so not the place you want to be.
            And, I also don’t use this page for self-promotion.  I may mention stuff that’s new or noteworthy, but that’s about it.  No sales or contests or interviews (well, not with me, anyway).  There’s some links on the side, yeah, but those are almost more for credentials purposes than sales.
            (Although if you want to buy something, I’d never object…)
            So, with all that out of the way… what are all these little rants for?
            Well, it struck me about ten years ago that there weren’t many places online to find actual help with writing.  Not useful help, anyway.  Yeah, all that “when you’re done” stuff I mentioned is important, but the writing is the first big step.  Nothing else matters until that step is done.  If I don’t have a decent piece of art, there’s nothing to do on the publishing half of the equation.  It doesn’t matter how much work I put into self-promotion.
            I look around and I saw—and still see—a lot of folks making mistakes with their writing.  Sometimes it’s from inexperience.  Sometimes it’s wishful thinking.  Sometimes it’s from following bad advice.  And a few times…
            Okay, sometimes I have no clue where some people are getting their information from.
            This is the time when we all make a lot of resolutions.  We’re going to quit smoking, drink less, eat better, exercise more, travel more… and maybe write more.  Maybe finally get that manuscript finished and out to some publishers.
            Now, sadly, we all know the truth behind a lot of these resolutions.  Most people don’t follow through on them.  In fact, a lot of gyms and weight loss programs make a ton of money off people who sign up for a one year membership in January and then more or less give up in… February.
            I’ve already seen a ton of folks making promises to themselves.  To finish a screenplay or a book.  Maybe two books.  That’s mine.  To finally get two books done in one year.
            But why?  Do I just want to write a screenplay because I’ve always wanted to try it?  Or am I hoping this could lead to a career in the film industry?  Am I looking to write a novel just for myself, or am I maybe looking to…well, make some money off of it?  And if so, am I looking at this as a nice hobby that will pay for some LEGO models, or is this something I’m hoping will be a career?  Like a paying-all-the-bills career?
            As I talked about earlier, when I first started this page a good chunk of the actual writing advice I could find was kind of… questionable.  Always follow this structure.  Always write at least 1000 words a day.  Don’t worry about spelling or editing.  Never use common words.  Never use said.  Name every character.  It all just seemed to be either something people were pulling out of the air or they were repeating something that had gone through twenty rounds of the telephone game.
            So what I’ve been trying to do here is to fill a gap.  To offer some useful help for people who’d like to improve their writing and move it toward something they could actually sell to a much larger audience and maybe not just… well, a hundred people they know between Facebook and Twitter.
            This means there’ll be some harsh facts now and then.  Yeah, facts, not opinions.  Also some very firm rules.  Some people will argue with these (some people always do) because some of those facts and rules are going to go against the way they’ve chosen to see things in the writing-publishing world.  Others will be upset because some of the things I say might indicate they’re not quite as far along their career path as they thought.  Or maybe they’re not on it at all. 
            I apologize in advance if this ends up being you.  It’s nothing personal—it’s just the facts as I see them after almost (gasp) thirty-seven years of trying to do this professionally.  If it makes you feel better, there are very, very few screw-ups you can make that I didn’t beat you to ages ago.  And I learned from them and want to help you get past them.
            I’ll also offer up some much gentler tips and advice.  Some of these suggestions will work for you.  Some won’t.  Part of my job as a professional writer is to figure out what does and doesn’t work for me.  I’ve spent years doing it.  If you want to be a professional, it’s part of your job, too.
            And if writing’s just something you like to dabble with on weeknights because you enjoy it… cool.  Nothing wrong with that.  Maybe you’ll find some stuff here that makes it even more fun for you.  Or maybe you’ll just show up to laugh at those of us in the publishing rat race.  That’s cool, too.
            So…that’s the basic idea behind this page.  There may be two or three deviations over the course of a year, but mostly… that’s it.  And, hey, if there’s something specific you’d like to see me blab on about, please feel free to ask.  I’m always open to suggestions, and I try to get to them within three or four weeks (depending on how many things I’ve already got planned out).
           Oh, and if you’re in Southern California, this weekend is both the Los Angeles and San Diego Writers Coffeehouses.  San Diego is at Mysterious Galaxy and hosted by the amazing Jonathan Maberry.  Los Angeles is at Dark Delicacies and hosted by the not as amazing… well, me.  Both of them are noon to three, open to absolutely anyone of any skill level, and they’re completely free.  No sign ups, no lists, nothing.  Just show up and join in.
            Next time… I’d like to talk to you about that little village near Castle Frankenstein.
            Until then, go write.
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January 21, 2016

No Photobombers

            I spent time at a few conventions last year and, as I do, I tried to get lots of photographs of the various cosplayers there.  I’m always blown away by that sort of thing.  I worked in the film industry for years and it’s amazing to see so many folks who are so dedicated they can do costumes that are on par (or better, in some cases) than the ones that end up on film.

            Alas, one or two of my shots were spoiled by photobombers.  You know that term, right?  The folks who decide to lean into a picture and draw attention to themselves with a goofy grin or thumbs up, even though it’s really clear they’re not who the photographer wants things focused on.  If you’re Chris Pratt, Hayley Atwell, or William Shatner and you end up photobombing somebody—hey, power to you.  How fantastic would that be, looking at your pictures later and finding Hayley Atwell smiling and waving at you?

             On the other hand, if I’m someone that’s going to make 99.9999% of humanity say “who the hell is that?”… I’m kind of being a jerk.  Because I’m not supposed to be the focus of this picture.  And by drawing attention away from what is supposed to be the center of attention, I’ve messed up this image.
             Or, for our purposes, this story.
             In some ways, being a writer is a thankless job.  If I do it right, people shouldn’t even notice me. If I do a spectacular job, people should forget me altogether.  Screenwriters get hit even worse with this—their work is often credited to the actors or director.  The ugly truth of storytelling is that none of us really care about the storyteller, we just want to hear the stories.
           Some storytellers try to get noticed.  It’s a deliberate choice.  They lean in and draw attention to themselves.  They wink and point.  Sometimes they make goofy expressions and shout “Look at me!  Look what I’m doing!” 
            When I do this as a writer, it’s just like photobombing.  Textbombing?  Prosebomb?  Whatever we want to call it, it’s me drawing attention away from telling my story, which—in theory–is supposed to be the focus of my writing.
            Here’s a few simple ways I can make sure I’m not ruining my focus…
            Vocabulary—Stephen King once said that “Any word you have to search for in the thesaurus is the wrong word.”  And, personally, I think he’s completely right about that.  I don’t think using a thesaurus is bad.  I’ve got one right here on my desk.  I often use it to jog my memory when I know there’s a specific word I’m looking for, and the easiest way to find it is to look up a synonym. 

           But some folks default to their thesaurus.  They have a sentence—let’s say “The thin woman wore a red hat.”—and then just immediately go to find bigger, better words for it.  That’s how you end up with sentences like… well…

            “The rawboned feminine figure accoutred her cranium with a chapeau of deepest carmine felt.”
            That’s me, as a writer, trying to draw attention to myself when you, the reader, want to be focused on the story.
             Any word I choose just to get attention, to prove I don’t need to use a common, blue-collar word, is the wrong word.  Any word that makes my reader stop reading and start analyzing is the wrong word. I can try to justify my word choice any way I like, but absolutely no one is picking up my manuscript hoping for a vocabulary lesson.  When my reader can’t figure out what’s being said for the fourth or fifth time and decides to toss said manuscript in the big pile on the left… there’s only one person to blame.
            Like I said, I’ve got a thesaurus on my desk.  But it’s not right here in arm’s reach, like the dictionary.  It’s a shelf up and off to the side. Just enough that I really need to stand up to get at it.  And move some LEGO people.
            Structure—A friend of mine is really into cirque school.  I’ve seen her do some of those aerial silk tricks where she’ll climb to the top of the studio, wrap her legs, bring the silk around her body, and then sort of roll down the silk. She spins and the silk twirls all around her and it takes two or three minutes for her to work her way back down to the floor.  I’m sure most of you reading this have seen some version of this, either live or maybe on television.  Its really beautiful and amazing when done right.
            It’s also—and she’d be the first to admit this—a really inefficient way to get from point A to point B.  And taking even longer to do it, well, that just gets exhausting for the performer and the audience.  None of us have the stamina for that kind of thing.  Getting there is half the fun, absolutely, but the point of most trips is still getting there.
            When the trip itself becomes the focus, it means my goals have shifted.  Getting to point B isn’t the important thing anymore.  And since storytelling is, in essence, getting characters from point A to point B… well…
            If I think of my story as an A—B line (to fall back on geometry), how often does my chosen structure deviate off that line?  How many times does it not move along the line at all?  How often does it go backwards?
            And how much of this is because of how I’ve chosen to structure things?
            I’ve seen people write page-long sentences which serve no purpose except to be a page-long sentence.  Sure, it’s very impressive in an MFA, grammatical-accomplishment kind of way, but past that… does it really advance the story?  Is it pushing the narrative, or just pushing the fact that I sat through half a dozen classes on creative writing?
            If I’m overloading my story with flashbacks, a non-linear plotline, or twenty-two points of view… what am I hoping to accomplish?  Are they adding anything?  Would it honestly lessen the story to not have them? Or am I just adding in gimmicks that I’ve heard make a story betterwithout any real understanding of how or why they work?
            Just like how an obscure word is wrong if it’s just there to be obscure, an overcomplicated structure is wrong if it serves no purpose except to be overcomplicated.
           Said—I’ve mentioned this a few times.  People will never notice if you use said.  Honest, they won’t.  Saidis invisible.  What they notice is when my characters retort, respond, pontificate, depose, demand, declare, declaim, muse, mutter, mumble, snap, shout, snarl, grumble, growl, bark, whimper, whisper, hiss, yelp, yell, exclaim, or ejaculate.  Yeah, ejaculate.  Stop giggling, it was a common dialogue descriptor for many years.  Once I’ve got three or four characters doing this all over the page, I shouldn’t be too surprised if my audience stops reading to shake their heads or snicker. 
            Now, granted, there are times where my characters will be hollering or whispering or snarling.  And when that happens, I don’t want my readers to already be bored by my constant use of different dialogue descriptors.  I want it to count.  Overall, they’re just going to be saying stuff.  So I shouldn’t overcomplicate things and draw attention to myself.
           These are just a few things to watch for in my writing, granted.  There’s always going to be that person who finds a clever new way to draw attention to themselves.  And there will always be exceptions, sure.   Really, though, photobombing my own story isn’t going to be a winning strategy.
            Never forget… first and foremost, people are showing up for the story.
            Quick note, before I forget.  If you happen to be in the Los Angeles area, this weekend I’m hosting the Writers Coffeehouse at Dark Delicacies in Burbank on Sunday.  It’s three hours of writers talking about writing, it’s open to everyone, and it’s free. Stop by and talk.  I guarantee it’ll be highly adequate.
            Next time, I’d like to talk about a big car accident I was in many years back.
            Until then, go write.
            Just don’t be seen doing it. 
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