I make myself sick. I really do. I am so not a writer. I am just walking around pretending to be a writer. I say I am going to write this book- HAVE BEEN SAYING IT- for 5 years now , and all Ive managed to do it amass a huge pile of letters, a query letter and a proposal. Oh and a few hundred magazine ans newspaper pieces.
I saw in my local paper that a very local man has written a book- some fantasy-Harry-Potter-Lord-of-the-rings type thing. Hes signing book at Hastings. Well, isnt that nice?
Then my very own husbands cousin is an award winning romance author. What have I done? newspaper mostly and a handful of glossy magazines. Whoop dee do!
Sometimes I feel like I sabotage myself. Like Im doing dishes to avoid writing on a subconcious level. Because it always seems like the house is never clean enough to start writing. That doesnt even make sense does it?
I cant even follow my own advice. When asked how to get started writing I always tell people that if you want to be a writer- you have to write. I cant even write. Again, I suck.
Im stuck. I just look at the page and go ...'um...'
I may never get this book published. I am destined to a life of local reporting and occassional features. What happened to my dream of the black and white book jacket with the smart picture of me on the back? I look great in black and white.
Has anyone ever seen that movie The Muse with Sharon Stone? I need one of those.
Ezra McCandless Stabs Bf 16 Times Pleads Not Guilt Every few months or so I run up on a case that gets a lot of local attention. I'v...
Brenda Andrew is the only woman on Oklahoma death row. She is there for the murder of her husband by her and her boyfriend James Pav...
Robbin Machucca, one of the four California Mall Murder assailants sent me a letter I received last week. I have about three or four lett...