Good morning, L.A.Saxe, and I hope it finds you well. I went looking for items to review, and discovered this blog instead. I've been writing — without any great success — for six and a half decades, so I'm going to offer my answers to some of your questions, and if any help you find your way, that's a good result.
I used to have your problem with new stories crowding in and taking over your current project. I had acquired the idea that you could only work on one at a time; some sort of Law of the Universe or something. Bollocks! If you're working on one story and another crowds in and demands your attention, that's fine. Set the first aside, perhaps in a gaudily-colored folder, and give your attention to the one that's demanding it. That's the one that's hot and will be the one you do your best work on. You'll eventually have five or six in various states of progress, and you can work on whichever one is tickling your fancy or even combine a couple, knowing the others are safely waiting in their folders.
Your style is your style. If you try to write like H.P. Lovecraft, you'll fall flat. If you try to write like H.G. Wells, success will prove elusive. You need to write like L.A. Saxe — catchy name for a writer, by the way. When you write a book, it's natural to hope that it will be read and beloved by millions. That's a noble aspiration. But while you're putting words on the page, what you are really doing is having an intimate conversation with one reader. Don't worry about how Hemmingway would have written it. You're L.A. Saxe, and that reader has chosen your work to read because you aren't Hemmingway, and he's looking for a new voice. Be that voice for him. If you can tell a halfway decent story, you'll find your audience.
Keep writing those random thoughts down. Someday, two of them will hook up into something greater than either, and a third will see them having fun and join the party. At that point, you'll be on your way. It's like catching a dog that's gotten off the leash: As long as you chase him, you'll never get close, but when you walk away and ignore him, he comes running to see what you're up to.
Everything has been done before, usually by Shakespeare. I often find myself writing to young people here, so I don't know whether you remember a little movie called Forbidden Planet. This was a 1956 movie that is generally credited with establishing the template for modern science fiction. That is well-known. What is not so commonly known is that it is so close as to be a retelling of Shakespeare's The Tempest. Yes, everything has been done before. Does that mean you can't write another cop story, war story, or fantasy? Does that mean that you can't set a story on a space ship because Star Trek has already done that? Hardly. It isn't important what your story is "similar to." What matters is the story you tell, and I have to admit that I didn't know that Forbidden Planet was Shakespeare until I read it decades later on WikiPedia. What matters is the story you tell.
I'm running out of characters here. I hope I've put something up here that helps you find your focus. Writing is a big, wonderful world to explore, and you're one of the explorers. So, put on your pith helmet, grab your machete, and get out there and start exploring! ...
Maybe he needed the minerals in the peel. Dogs are amazing. They will chew sticks and I was told once by a Vet, I believe, they want something that is in the sticks.
Tried golf myself years ago; went out to the driving range and a 9 hole course once. Never went back. Not my thing. I do like to watch it on TV sometimes.
Stay with it. If you are interested and KNOW that approaching slowly will get you better results, you are half way home.
I went to a driving range for the second time in my life. I’m thinking about getting into golf. I started with a wedge, and hit a few good shots, which was nice. I thought that maybe things were looking good, considering I could barely connect with the ball last time, but then I moved on to the irons — my nemesis clubs. I missed and missed, and whacked the ball every which way you weren’t supposed to. I decided to slow down, calm down, take a breather, go smoothly, and it worked. I was hitting shots with the seven, eight, and nine irons nicely. Of course, as a beginner’s beginner, the shots weren’t great, but for me they were cool. I could sense improvement in the air. Feeling smug, I moved on to the driver. The driver was the only club I was able to hit the ball with on my first go at the range, so I thought it was a safe choice to end the session with. Wrong. Somehow I was hooking the ball to the extreme left with every shot. I was scooping it badly. One scoop led to another… and another. I realised I was rushing frantically to take each shot. I slowed down again, focused on being real smooth. I had one ball left. Gracefully, I swung back and took the shot. The club connected with the ball for my best shot yet. Success. What a great feeling it was to smack the golf ball good.
Whilst walking Leo, I stopped to check my phone. Leo sniffed a good bit around some bushes. I half-noticed he was sticking his nose deeper in, but I was distracted by a message from my wife — a birthday present idea for mum. Suddenly, he was in the bushes, and I was yanking him out. He reappeared with a banana skin dangling from his mouth. Leo dodged my first attempt to get it from him, and in response, started chewing fast. The banana skin vanished into his mouth. He went to run, tail in the air, all proud of himself — but he forgot one key thing: he was still on the lead. I pulled him back, took hold of his mouth, pried it open. He resisted, naturally. But I won in the end.
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