Good evening, dear reader. You might have stumbled across this blog from just about anywhere, but wherever you hail from, thanks for stopping by. It was getting lonely in here. This is my personal writing blog, where I'll be hinting at whatever projects I'm working on and pointing you towards those few stories I've let through the airlock. And maybe just musing from time to time on the relation between an author and his work.
I've been at this writing thing for just shy of two years now. It's funny to see patterns emerge in your writing that either confirm or deny what you know (or thought you knew) about yourself. For instance, looking back on the stories I've put together over the past few years, my protagonists tend to be alone, either by choice or by circumstance. I don't know that I've ever written a story where a main character's relationship to another character doesn't seem somehow superficial, at least to start. And villains? I don't know that I've ever written a story with one. Obstacles tend to be amorphous and vague. Horrors are faceless and indifferent. Maybe I've read Lovecraft and/or Kafka a little too frequently. Then again, maybe I've read them because I recognize a view that I hold.
I mean, when did I get so bleak?
Some of the nerdier of you might recognize the header on this page as a quote belonging to a Firefly episode. That ep, "Objects in Space" ends with its talkative antagonist adrift in space, alone, nothing but blackness and little pinprick stars for literally hundreds of thousands of miles. What are his last (as far as we can tell) words? "Well, here I am." Not that I identify too closely with a space sociopath, but I think that phrase pretty well sums things up.
Here you are.