Okay, as of yesterday, I am now one year older. I turned 29 and every year on my birthday, it becomes a time of reflection on what I have not accomplished with my life. I don't so this intentionally, it's just how it goes.
I had made a deal with myself two years ago that I would be published by the time I'm 30. I first began writing when I was very young and just learning how to write. I started sending stuff to be published when I was 15. Of course, by the age of 17 I was a cocaine addict and remained one until the age of 27. So there's ten years of writing nothing but shit under the influence of drugs. Which I hope is what accounted for the fact that everything I wrote was complete drivel.
Now that I am clean, going on 2 years, my output has been a lot better. I have a few stories currently being considered with different magazines and I am currently working on at least a few others. Plus, I am still working on my novel Hatred, but because of these stories, production on the book has been delayed temporarily.
There are a few other things going on in my life right now. One of them I am not allowed to say yet. But I will hopefully be able to tell everyone within a week or so.
But, the one bit of news I can tell you, is that so far, it looks like I'm going to be at CONtext this year. Writers such as Christopher Golden and Gary Braunbeck will be there, and I am stoked. This will be a good year for sure.
Anyway, that's all for now. I'll be back in a day or two with a rant, because this is a good way to get my frustrations out.
Dear World – Note From the Author in the Middle
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