Hello there. I see you’ve survived the Rapture or the raptors. Either way, here you are reading this post.
Now it’s been a while since I’ve posted something other than a story. And since — like you, unless you’re a zombie — I survived as well, I thought it was time to give my blog more attention. Daily attention.
The trouble with daily blogging — I commend writers like Chuck Wendig and John Scalzi who do it and do it well — is what do I write about? What can I bring to the table? And more importantly can I either educate or entertain you? Maybe make it about myself. It’s my blog after all. Right? How personal should I be? Do you want to know the turd I pinched out just a few moments ago looks like Nixon’s nose? Maybe a bit TMI? Ya’ Think?
I suppose a mix is best. Part some information, try to be entertaining without informing you about my bowel movements. Though I think if I were to make this about poop, Chuck Wendig would appreciate it. He loves poop, and well he’s going to be deep in it for the next year or so. Congrats Chuck on the new Wendig, Benjamin Charles Wendig. I suggested that name, BTW.
OK, no I didn’t. I’m a liar and I’m working on being one professionally.
And by lie, I mean make things up, and by make things up I mean I write fiction. I assume you know that, but as the late famous Tony Randall was fond of saying on “The Odd Couple”: When you assume, you make an ass out of U and Me.
So I make up stories, generally dark, horrible stories about desperate men. One reader called my stories “Bad Boy” Noir. An interesting turn of words. My protagonists, if you can call them that, generally are men who have fallen on the wrong side of the law. And like true noir, most end up with an unrewarding end.
That end doesn’t necessarily mean death or incarceration, and the actions aren’t always for the wrong reason, but inevitably leaves a lasting mark on the character. That is the strength of noir fiction. To create evocative stories where you know at the onset that the end isn’t going to be all sunshine and lollipops, yet you are compelled to read on and feel these moments of human condition no matter how bleak.
So that’s what I write and read. Dark, gritty and sometimes bleak stories.
That’s what you’ll find on my blog with the occasional reference to poop.