I Really Did

April 19, 2012

I honestly posted something on here hours ago. But for some reason it never…worked…it was a very odd thing.

Actually, it was probably for the best. I think I just included some unecessary items. It wasn’t much writing, but a lot of very vital and personal information.

Name. Address. Phone numbers. Social Security number.

You know…stupid stuff.

So since that post is no longer, let’s go ahead and replace it with some real content.

I’ve been thinking about what writing really is. Or at least I’ve been thinking about what I think writing is.

I think it’s mostly a more sophisticated way of saying “Hey, look at me.”

It’s pretty egotistical at it’s core.

When I write, I’m trying to tell a story. I’m also trying to tell it in a way that makes the reader respond. Maybe they say “Good job.” or maybe they don’t speak and just send me money via Paypal. (Both are great reactions.) But even at it’s more basic level, I’m wanting the attention it brings.

And let’s be honest. We all want attention. Even animals want it. What do you think they’re trying to do when they pee on your sock or bring you a dead snake on your back porch? They want your attention. “Look at me.”

This blog is a lot like one of those dead snakes. I know I don’t get a whole lot of traffic through these dusty trails of the internet, but they’re my trails, and I like to know if people are walking through. It makes me feel a little better than I did before. It’s good to know you have been here.

This was probably true for the earliest storytellers in history. It was true back in the middle ages. It was probably true way before written language existed. Storytellers needn’t write their stories… No.

People who would travel from village to village trying to get food and find shelter because they could spin a good yarn. Whenever people hung around and listened, they took a deep satisfaction from that. They had to. It not only meant that they could get food and shelter, but it also had to mean that they were important.

It made them feel like they had something to do in this world.

I think I’m liking the metathought on why I write. I want to feel the same way they did.

D.A.

 

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But when I am, I try to write stories the old fashioned way.

This is what I did today during one of my classes that had to take a midterm. That goes to show you how bored I was. I was also not capable of using a computer at the moment because I didn’t want to sit there in a silent room with me pounding on a keyboard the whole time. That’s right, I’m a nice guy.

My handwriting clearly needs help. It looks a lot like an old form of Klingon. I’m not sure if you can really see this writing up close but it’s mostly a ugly hybrid of cursive and print. Each letter only resembles those found in the English alphabet. And it’s very tiny. Like Hobbit tiny.

One thing that does sort of make me proud is how straight the lines of text are on the unlined paper. I’m pretty impressed with myself. Usually when I try something like this it looks like half the words are sliding off an invisible shelf.

And if for some reason you’re trying to read what I wrote, please stop. That’s my next little project/goal. If you want to keep it a surprise don’t look at the answers. Oh, I guess I should tell you what that goal actually is…

5,000. 

Yup. 5,000 words is my goal. I think I can accomplish it. I think I could kill it. I just don’t know if I can hit 5,000 and still keep it interesting to read. I’m starting to think I have a short attention span when it comes to writing because I have pretty short attention span when I’m reading.

When is it going to be done? Whenever I decide it’s ready…that’s when. I’ve had the idea for about a week now, but yesterday I actually planned out what’s going to happen (most likely, things can always change later).

I wrote a lot (for my standards) last month. While I thought it was great, I want to try something that I put a little more effort into. I also want to allow myself to be lazy. I did a lot of work last month. So far I haven’t really stopped that pattern, but I don’t want to get my hopes up that it will continue only to have it all fall apart in a couple of weeks.  So I think pacing myself will be for the best.

Oh, and I think this story is going to have some Elvis impersonators. Because what story doesn’t get better when you read about overweight and uncommitted Elvis impersonators?

So I guess you’ve got that to look forward to.

I’ve got a teacher work day tomorrow…but no work. So that means I’ll probably end up writing a little while I’m there. I’ll probably listen to music and make my coworkers wonder what’s wrong with my musical taste…

THHHEEEE HIIIIILLLLLSSSS ARE AALLLIIIIIIVVVVVEEE WITH THE SOUND OF MUUUUUUSSIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCC…..

D.A.

Have you ever read a story that’s so good you it just seems to take over your life? The story puts itself into your mind and you can’t let it go. It’s those books you just can’t put down. It’s those books that make you tear up at the end.  It makes a mark in your life in a way that you will never forget. If you’re an writer/author you have probably felt this at least once in your life.

Moments like that make you want to let other people experience the same thing by reading your own writing. That’s one of the reasons I started this blog. I wanted to write things that not only entertain people, but make an impact on people’s lives.

I can confidently say that since I’ve been running this thing I’ve been given the opportunity to experience that ten-fold. I really feel blessed throughout this entire experience. Not only have I written the stories that change people, but I have also been changed by those stories in the loving responses I have receive from them.

That’s why what I have to say right now is something that I say with a heavy heart…

Today will be my last day running this blog. 

Bookforme will be no more. It will, however, be taken over by another person whom I have tapped to become the next bookforme blogger. It’s going to be an awesome young woman named Jessica “Jessie” Gainer. I’m sure sometime within the next few days you’ll be hearing from her as she introduces herself to all of you. Please treat her with the love, attention, and respect you have treated me with for the long time we’ve had together.

It took me a couple of weeks to reach this decision. It was hard. But I think it’s going to be for the best.

The reason for my departure is because I have concerns in other parts of my life that will be needing my full and undivided attention.

I have taken up another job. That’s right. I am now officially a published author. I know I didn’t share this with all of you, but I have been typing away at my novel since I first started this blog. Back in October I got a callback from some of the lovely people over at HarperCollins.

They read my novel and felt like they wanted to publish it. (The whole thing is a completely surreal experience, trust me).

So you can expect for the novel to come out on June 1st, 2012 (this year!!!). It will be called Speaking of Time.

Now that I’ve told you this…I guess it’s time for me to revel my true identity to you…

My real name is not D.A. Bancroft. It is Phillip Dalton. I know that’s not as fancy of a name as D.A. Bancroft…but it’s the name that came to me at the time.

From this time forward I will be running press junket and some speaking arrangements as colleges and libraries all around the country.   If you want to meet me…I guess that would be your perfect opportunity. I know the itinerary isn’t posted anywhere right now, but if you keep checking HarperCollins.com you will be able to see it.

But this last post shouldn’t be about me promoting my new book Speaking of Time that will be released on JUNE 1st 2012 in major retail bookstores everywhere. It should be about me saying goodbye in the most classy way I know how.

So you remember how I mentioned how I wanted to write those stories that stuck with you? That made an impact on your life? I think those are those little opportunities for us to learn something. Maybe when we put those books down we become better people. I think some of us grow a lot from reading.

So in a way, each good ending to a book is like a new beginning in your own life. We get a new perspective on the world around us.

Now for some last minute housekeeping. Jessie, the girl that will be running this blog, will likely be making a few changed around here. To be honest I think they are going to be significant. I’m pretty sure (based on my last conversation with her) that she wants this place to become more like a social news site.

She says her biggest interests are Justin Beiber and Flowers. So you’ll probably see a lot of those around here.

In the meantime…I’ll be lavishing in my pool of money that I have been advanced for my novel. (A solid $600,000)

I’m rich now. 

Goodbye forever,

Phillip Dalton (formerly known as D.A. Bancroft)

This fella is affectionately known as “One Eye”. 

And, no. I do not own him. Nobody does. With a hardened stare like that nobody can really “own” him. He owns himself. (But my neighbors behind me seem to provide care for him.)

Also, I’ve heard rumor that he goes by the name “Oreo”. I don’t see the resemblance.

I prefer the name One Eye because it’s tough. And, quite clearly, he only has one eye.

I’m pretty creative, huh?

When I look at this mangy backyard power animal I get the sensation that he’s got a story to tell.

A story that’s riddles with action, love, hate, and hours of licking himself clean of the blood of his enemies.

He was probably just like any other cat. A little girl had wanted a kitty and he was the winner. He had the most adorable squeak of a meow and looked like a popular brand name cookie. (I still don’t see the resemblance.)

Everything looked like it would be a nice long life of belly rubs and furballs. Then it all came crashing down.

The little girl got older and grew tired of the little guy. When he lost the affection of that little girl he turned to the grey tabby down the street. She was no good to him. Her constant infidelity drove him to get hooked on “the nip”. Then the bottom fell out.

He was walking the streets and getting into fights all the time. For a while he was the king of the ally. Then, one fateful night, he ended up picking a fight with the wrong kitty.

He lost his pride, his territory, and his right eye…

Then he wandered off into the woods hoping an eagle or an alligator would take his life from him.

But then he stumbled upon my backyard and set up shop.

Okay, I guess I can’t really believe that whole tough guy routine. Especially when he sleeps in an open lawn sprawled out like this…

Come on… he ain’t no tough guy.

Though he is still missing the eye…

There’s a little something I’ve learned about my experiences on the internet.

  • Email = 1% of the internet
  • Video = 1% of the internet
  • Specialized websites = 1% of the internet
  • Cats = 97% of the internet

Thanks to my work here today, that trend will not be changing anytime soon.

D.A.

Back To Work

March 26, 2012

Let’s just recap what’s happened over the past ten days or so.

I experienced the blessed time known as spring break. I stuck to my guns and gave you all a post on each one of those days.

I let you know about my marble conquests.

I shared some nice, deep, and personal thoughts on some problems in the world today.

I gave you insight of how my writing skill are (presumably) improving.

And most of all, I gave you THREE short stories.

THREE.

Actually, those three stories can be found here…

Bottoms Up

The Man in Blue

Happy Birthday

(I’m good at shameless plugs if you didn’t remember).

If you haven’t read these stories yet…then what are you waiting for? Go! Get busy! I did all that work for you!

YOU!

That’s more than I’ve given you in the past…I dunno…like…six months of promising to write stories that I never completed. So enjoy it while it lasts.

So much productivity… I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of you too.

You know why? Because, so far, you have given me some awesome feedback and that makes you kind and lovable people.

So thank you. Really. You’re wonderful.

I did good work during my break but now it is time to return  to my daily grind of seeding the young fertile minds of today to become the large fruit-bearing trees of knowledge that will soon be performing brain surgery on you tomorrow.

No, really.

One of my students is going to perform brain surgery on you. Tomorrow.

It’s actually very unsettling. I hope you have life insurance.

D.A.

P.S. – This also means that I will be writing most of my posts a day early rather than the day of. That’s because I will be so dog tired this week that I would likely forget to make a post for that day. So please excuse my seemingly oddly timed posts. 

The Man in Blue

March 20, 2012

(Author’s Note: This story is just a shell of what it should be. I completed the story parts…but decided I would save a much better edit until later. That means this is a very rough cut of the story I’ve been working on. Sorry it’s not more polished. I’m just a little too excited to share it I guess.)

The storm outside was relentless. The drops sounded like they were the size of quarters banging against the side of the once beautiful home. Now the unkempt home’s missing shingles allowed for a stain to grow in the northeast corner of the ceiling in the living room. James stared up at it as it grew during the duration of the storm.

He had been squatting in this house for the past four months. James did his best to hide from the neighbors but he was sure they knew. He didn’t speak to anybody and only stayed inside at night. One of his safe moves was to make sure he never used lights at night. It was a lonely place at night.

He only left during the early morning hours. During the day he would hang around the back of a Lowe’s closer to town hoping to get picked up by somebody for a day’s worth of work at a construction site. It usually didn’t work out. But the little money he did earn was usually in sweaty dollar bills and rolled up in a rubber band. Today was a wash out, so no work.

That’s why he had been sitting in his borrowed living room all morning trying to cook some Ramen Noodles on a small camping stove. It wasn’t working out too well. The last flavor packet had gone missing. How do you lose something when you hardly have anything to lose? James thought to himself. Today he would just have to settle with the flavor of hose water and plain noodle.

The little money he did earn was quickly sent off the pay for his growing alimony debt. He kept 50 bucks for himself when he could so he could scrape up some non-perishables from the store every couple of weeks, sometimes some propane cans when he was filling selfish.

If I only had more money. This was his daily mantra. He lived and died by these words, not that he had anybody to say these words to.

Thunder shook the house and made the windows rattle. James never liked thunder. When there was thunder there was lightning. He was terrified of lightning. It always brought up bad memories from his childhood.

As his pot of water started hissing, a knocking came form the front door. James passed it off as hail banging against the door.

James didn’t stop trying to stir his uncooked noodles. He looked back up at the stain on the ceiling. It had grown considerably in the past couple of hours. He thought about the idea that may need to ditch this place for another one soon. A different neighborhood always presented more problems. Maybe his future neighbors wouldn’t take kindly to the homeless moving in.

The knocks came again. This time they were much more rhythmic. James knew a person had to have done that. He left his noodles and snuck around the corner into the foyer. He tried peeking through a window for a car but didn’t see one.

Probably the police. I guess I overstayed my welcome. He pondered to himself.

“Mr. Harris?” came the muffled voice from outside.

A man in a blue suit stood under his porch. He had a weak smile and a fedora pulled across his brow hiding his eyes. The stranger looked like he was pulled out of the advertisement for cigarettes in the 1950’s. He was holding a briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist.

This is weird. James thought to himself.

James opened the door timidly. “Yes. I’m here. What do you want?”

“I have something that was determined to be given to you.” said the man in a routine manner. He punctuated his sentence with the same passive smile that he wore before.

“What is it?” demanded James.

“Money. And lots of it.” the man stated with casual ease. He looked up to meet James’s gaze. He had dark eyes.

Bull. That was James Harris’s first thought.

“Bull.”That was also James Harris’s first reaction. He immediately felt like recanting his statement but he didn’t have a choice.

The man in blue shook his head. “You tell me.” The smile never left his face.

He pulled up the briefcase and unlocked it with a key he pulled from his breast pocket. When he opened his jacket James saw the holstered polished steel beneath it. The man in blue continued to open the briefcase displayed it packed neatly with stacks of 100 dollar bills.

“Holy-” James put his hand over his mouth the way an elderly woman shows shock at the sight of women in pants.

“That’s got to be close to a million dollars…” he finished his thought.

“Actually it’s 17.3 million.” piped the man in blue.

“Wow.” James continued.

“So are you interested in what I have to say?” chuckled the mysterious man.

“You may be my new best friend.” said James. I must be crazy. This can’t be happening.

“Fine then.” he gave a slight pause. “Would you mind if I stepped inside briefly?”

“Oh, yes.” said James, seemingly forgetting common courtesy. This guy must be soaked.

The man looked behind him at the storm with indifference as if taking notice of it for the first time. He turned back and smiled wryly. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

They walked into the living room ignoring the storm outside. The man in blue stepped into the foyer without wiping his shoes on the old floor mat. James even noticed that the man didn’t appear to be wet at all. His shoes didn’t squeak on the marble floor. The man in blue turned and extended his unoccupied hand to James.

James returned motion and shook the man’s hand. Feels like this guy has had his hand in ice water.

The man in blue held the grip for longer than normal. “You’ve got a good grip there. You must work in construction.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks?” James stammered out. “So, what can I help you with?” he eyed the side of the man’s jacket with the gun.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this but I was told that you would be here at this time. Your place of residence looks…lovely.” said the man in blue.

“Oh, yeah, well…” James tried a little humor. “My place in the Hampton’s is still being renovated. So I just pitched my tent here, for now.” James never took his eyes away from the holstered pistol.

“I don’t have much time, so if it’s not a bother to you, I would like to get straight down to business. I think that’s the phrase.” stated the stranger.

“Yes, I think that’s the phrase.” James agreed sardonically. The storm outside was picking up. The thunder really made James feel the uneasiness in his stomach. He felt like something bad was going to happen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be brief.” the man in blue unbutton his coat jacket, the gun now in plain sight.

“I’m going to ask you if you wish to participate or not. If you agree, you will get this briefcase and you can do whatever your little heart desires with it’s contents. If you disagree-” the man thought seemed to trail off. “Well, let’s just say you’re going to participate.”

James’ heard the threat clearly. He swallowed and responded. “Free money sounds like a good idea.”

“Great.”

The man in blue uncuffed himself from the money and latched it onto James. James contemplated objecting be decided it was in his best interests to cooperate fully. He also couldn’t stop salivating at the idea of all that money on his wrist.

Heck, if this guys going to kill me, I might as well die rich.

“There is, of course, one catch.” said the stranger. His eyes narrowed. “You will have six days to spend all of this money. You are expected to spend it correctly. If you fail to do so within the assigned time period-” the man opened his coat jacket to reveal the gun fully. “I’ll kill you.”

James swallowed hard.

“That’s it.” The man buttoned his jacket again and started toward the door.

“W-wait. You’ll just kill me if I don’t spend the money? And you’ll kill me if I spend it wrong?” he waited for a response from the man.

“Yes. You have six days as well. Don’t forget the six days part.”

James was trying his hardest to not evacuate his bowels in front of this mysterious stranger.

“How am I supposed to spend it the right way? You want me to give it to a charity or something? Why not do it yourself. Why am I being … chosen for this whole crazy scheme.” whimpered James.

“You said you wanted more money. Here’s your chance.” stated the stranger.

Can this guy read thoughts or something?  James wondered to himself.

“Actually, I can.” said the man in blue.

“You can what?” queried James. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“I can read your thoughts. I can also tell a lot of things about you James Allen Harris.”

Woah.

“Woah, indeed. I can also tell you that were the person I picked for reasons you can’t see right now. You’re just going to have to trust me. I haven’t picked a winner yet, but you might be the lucky one.” the man finished. He started walking toward the door.

“You mean everybody who’s done this has failed?” said James.

“It’s a shame to say it. But yes. They have all failed.” The man reached into his pocket and tossed the keys at James. “Catch.”

James didn’t move and the keys hit his chest and fall to the floor.

As the man in blue opened the door the wind from the storm kicked some rain into the foyer. The splashing from the eve above made it sound like a waterfall outside.

“Oh, and I’d hate put you out like this, but you should probably use some of that money to replace these windows.” said the man ignoring the torrent outside.

James looked like a bewildered owl. “Windows?” he inquired.

His question was ignored and the man in blue stepped outside and closed the door behind him. No less than than 3 seconds later lightning crashed just outside of the same door.

Glass shattered and the windows blew inward. James thought a bomb had went off and threw himself down to the ground covering his head with the briefcase.

For a moment the shock took away all memories of the man in blue. James opened his eyes half expecting this whole ordeal to be a hallucination but he felt the cold handcuffs around his wrist. When he picked himself up he raced to the door and threw it open. The rain persisted but the man was gone. Vanished into thin air. It smelled like flowers.

Only a small piece of paper lay on his porch. James picked up the sopping wet rag.

It read:

June 9th at 9:00 p.m. I’ll see you then.

P.S. – Sorry about the mess.

James forgot his fear of lightning and stood outside as more arcs bolted across the sky. He ran down the street not caring if the neighbors saw him.

Six days. 

The Man in Blue.

D.A. Bancroft

Tell Me What To Do!

February 16, 2012

This weekend will be my first full weekend in 3 weeks. It will also be a long one.

I’m looking at the precious 72 hours as a real opportunity to do something special. I would come up with a cool plan myself, but I’ve already used up all my good ideas and inspiration this week. So YOU need to tell me what to do.

What would you recommend? Should I…

  1. Go camping?
  2. explore a city I’ve never been to before?
  3. Eat a two pound BBQ pulled pork sandwich?
  4. Begin a Pez collection?
  5. Workout to the song “You’re the Best Around” by Joe Esposito?
  6. Shave my head?
  7. Clean out a neighbors gutters?
  8. Go see a doctor to receive a full colonic irrigation?
  9. Go rent a car and tell everybody about my disdain for the company because they “only had a compact”?
  10. Finish my lamp?
  11. Go bowling and bowl 3 consecutive games of exactly 156?
  12. Try out for a professional soccer team?
  13. Perform my own rendition of ‘One Flew Over the Cockoo’s Nest’ in a city park?
  14. Learn to weave baskets?
  15. Grow a beard overnight and then enter a beard contest?
  16. Flash mob in a mall?
  17. Buy a new towel?
  18. Rent a tent for a large outdoor event?
  19. Clean the undercarriage of my car?
  20. Sleep?

Yeah, those are just a few things I thought up but I’m positive you can come up with better.

So help me out. What should I do?

D.A.

I have begun work on what will be my first novel.

Mind you, this is only the very beginning stages of writing this novel. I am going to try and implement some of the strategies I have learned over the last year. So far this is what I’ve done and this is the order in which it has occurred.

1. Come up with an idea. I can’t believe it, but I settled on an idea. It’s taken some time (several months) but at least it’s happened.

This also includes the design of the characters that are going to be running around doing this whole thing.

2. Write a plot “skeleton”. I’m not sure of how else to describe this. I am writing, sort of a time line, that includes all the events that are going to occur in this story. Plot line? Order of Events? I don’t know what to call this. But I have done this.

3. Adding meat onto this skeleton. I am going to build scenes around each of these events (or maybe have multiple events occurs in single scenes. This is where I currently am in terms of getting things done.

I still have to pick locations/minor characters/quirks/arguments/dialogue/small dilemmas for the scenes and the real fun details that would make this whole thing interesting to read. This is probably going to take a lot of time and after I start writing I may not even following these details.

This is one thing I’ve learned. No matter how much you plan, it’s still not writing. You will never be able to plan ever detail to a story before you write it. At least I will get a pretty good idea for where I want to go.

After I pack all this meat onto the skeleton, I will judge if it is a deformed malnourished creature build only to survive in the depths, or if it is a well built and hearty beast that can flourish in the rain forest. Only time will tell.

So, I haven’t been wasting my time completely while I’m not blogging. At least I’ve begun working on one of my life’s biggest goals.

This is just a quick little update to let you know about it. As I progress I will end up actually telling you more about my thought process as I’m going through everything.

D.A.

 

And The Winner is…..

June 16, 2011

Peter the Poet.

This man was kind enough to participate in my contest, not only once, but twice.

He was also the only human being to participate as well.

So, kudos to you, Peter!

 

You can find his page Cottonbombs right here. 

I may do a contest again in the future,  but judging from the warm reception of this last attempt, I’ll have to change up how I go about that in the first place. It’s almost as if nobody wanted my lovely gifts…

In a completely unrelated note, me and a buddy saw the movie Super 8 today. Now, I’m not sure what critics and people are really saying about this movie, but I really enjoyed it. It’s sci-fi, fun, and well made. I’m not going to give away any spoilers, but the story is very simple. There really isn’t anything all too deep about the characters. You get what you see.

Usually I would consider this a big downside of a film. I really like complex stories. This one, though, seemed to break that mold for me. Maybe I will be able to look toward the writing in this film and draw some inspiration from the fact that not all stories have to be complex. Sometimes, simple can be good. Maybe all stories are really simple, and I just don’t see it.

So, kudos to you, J.J. Abrams. Now get back to work on the next Star Trek movie. I’ve got an itching to see some Spock ears…

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed your day. Original content will return tomorrow.

D.A. Bancroft

 

 

 

 

More self examination

May 29, 2011

I’m sure most who write blogs (probably you) take pride in your work. And you should! It’s not easy.

But I’m sure most of you have a name for your blog that you’re proud of. It’s a real statement. It sums everything up about who you are and what you’re doing here.

Bookforme is the name of this blog.

Not very good is it? While I’m sure I could change it I would like to tell you why I will not.

The name bookforme will stay there as a constant reminder to me that my goal in writing is to complete a book.

When I came up with this blog, I wanted to accomplish one thing in particular. I wanted to write a book. I don’t care if it gets published or not. I don’t care if it’s even that good. But I do care if I can actually get it done. This is going to be tough for me because I am not a particularly skilled writer.

I have no plans on writing a book right now. I’m still trying to learn how to write posts and comments without making myself look like a total dweeb. But when I get a lot of short stories under my belt I will try writing a book. I expect that this blog will likely end up being where I post each chapter as I write it. I might even end up breaking chapters into sections and release those. In all reality, I’m not at that bridge, so I’m not going to worry about it much right now.

What I am going to worry about are the little things. I need to know about creating a story. Whether it’s formal or not, I need the knowledge base to develop those ideas. I also need to learn more about grammar. I know some may warn away from spending too much time here, but I think I need to feel confident enough about it in order to put my mind at rest. Plus, it’s not like I have an editor or anything. I edit my own stuff.

Here are some other goals I would love to accomplish in anticipation of writing a book:

1. Write over 50 short stories. (hopefully they will get better with time).

2. Write some sort of short serial. That means I would like to write a number of short stories that actually have some line of continuity through them. This seems to be like it could be the most fun in my near future.

3. Try things like poetry/haikus/jokes/lyrics on some occasion. (In order to bring my attention to other forms of writing.)

4. Network with other writers in order to help me develop what I do into a real skill.

5. Write a novellete. (This could or not become my future full blown novel, but trying a story in that form would be a tremendous adventure and likely be good practice in creating a long story.)

6. Shorten the time it takes to let a story form in my mind and then write it down.

7. Reach my goal of a complete book within 2 years. (This could be subject to change, but only in a shorter time frame, not a longer one)

Overall, I think these are reachable goals. You’ll notice that the number of short stories should take me about a full year to finish (at one story per week). That would give me the chance to work on a novel for a whole year. I’m sure I need this much time in order to change and edit if I need to.

Hey, maybe I’ll write a book and then I’ll say to myself, “Oh that was not that bad”. Then I’ll get confident enough to keep it up. Or maybe you will all form an angry mob and demand my retirement from the field. Either way, I look forward to a book for me.