Windy, washy Wednesday afternoon. Sit at my computer screen, while away precious free minutes of my life. Blade Runner Blues meets Playground Love, the world an oyster glued shut. Who, where, when… doesnt matter. Why? No why?
A writer – a true writer – is an escape from mediocrity. A light unseen, even to the writer itself, gallantly, mercilessly chasing invisible shadows. No need for reflection, contemplation, commiseration – only transliteration of the big to real.
Point? What point? To write to a point is to merely prolong an invisible scattershot, inviting in voices that don’t belong.
So, what’s left? Souls, that’s what. Fearless unseens coursing from the page to the eyes to the heart to life. That’s what matters. It’s all about doing. Nothing more, nothing less.

True art is forging the unknowable into the known, only to have disseminated into so many parts that they form a mosaic of wordless beauty when put back together. Such is writing, which for me has been an everlasting love affair that’s taken on so many guises and roles in my life that it’d be insulting not to acknowledge its catalytic effect.

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How to start, write, and edit a novel? It’s a commonly asked question that answers itself: START, WRITE and EDIT! But for the sake of elaborating on what many consider to be a multi-faceted topic, let’s start with the basics.

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