We've all got new complications in our lives, and one of those is constantly being cramped inside with nowhere to go. This means it might be time to exercise the mind.
I understand I ought to be outcast from the blogging community for neglecting Phantasmagorium, but I was on the road. So I'll just have you write about outcasts instead!
There's nothing better for healing than sleep--or writing. Having spent my weekend finally getting to do plenty of both, that's my testimony. I'm not snake-oiling you here, folks, some good, cathartic writing will cure what ails you.
We all have certain guilty writing vices. You might not have noticed yours yet, or might be pretending you haven't, but you definitely have them. Some are harder to notice than others, but learning what they are is the Ultimate Final Boss Key to successfully editing your own work.
For better or worse, it's Scott Fitzgerald's birthday today--author of "The Great Gatsby," or at least the bits his wife Zelda didn't write. To be perfectly honest, they both sound like the kind of people you would want to go to a party with but the people you would absolutely not want to be your minders for said party.
The more I fine-tune "Lost and Found," the more my heroes become anti-heroes and my villains become anti-villains. The only difference between most of the "good" and "bad" characters is who they happen to dislike the most at that moment.
You'll all be pleased to know today is National Be Late For Something today. You might think I'm making this up to excuse missing a post, but I beg to differ. Look it up.
Yesterday was International Senior Citizens' Day, folks. Wisdom may be variable, but you've still got to give props to the people who've made more trips around the sun then you. Give Mom and Dad a call--or Grandmom and Granddad, if you don't want to offend Mom and Dad--and take the time to ponder wisdom with this set of microprompts.
I've been away from any from any extended work on "The Stars Went Out" for a bit, and I already miss the magic. Speaking of magic, Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nacthmusik" was finished on this day about 200 years ago.
When I found out there was such a thing as Ratcatcher's Day, I had to make it a writing occasion.