The importance of illustration

Back, long ago, in the days of pulp fiction and fifty cent novels, illustration was king. There was a reason for this. People, in general, are drawn to beautiful things. Granted beauty can be subjective for each individual from a splatter of black and white on an austere surface all the way upwards to a grandiloquent baroque-like tapestry of color and form grafted to a forty-foot plaster wall. In the case of the novel and short story, publishers from long ago understood this concept.

And we move forward . . .

Well, it's been a few days since I posted. After last week and my stellar achievements: finishing the first pass of Traveler, and hitting the halfway mark on Daughter, this week has started off a bit slow. 

Oops, I did it again!

Today I accomplished my goal of finishing the first pass of Traveler—or TNV. This project was always one of the most important to me. 

Halfway and counting!

Well dear friends, I have met a landmark event this morning. I am pleased to announce that I'm at the halfway mark for Daughter of the Laughing God. The goal was to have the prequel at this juncture by the weekend and I finished up a day early.

Of mice and men, or how to humiliate yourself in one simple misstep, and so it goes . . .

As I have stated in other places, I am not the best when it comes to first impressions. Whether it be due to my humorous physicality, my imperfect sense of decorum, or a mathematical algorithm that ticktocks away in the background of my life—Matrix style, I can not say. I spent a lifetime examining this unbalanced equation to no avail. As many who know me can attest, it is observable and disturbingly predictable. I see it as challenging and part of my esoteric anatomy. An outsider looking in at a glance would just say, “Tough break bud, better luck next time.” But the astute oftentimes will declare after a year or two of paying very close attention, “Oh by the gods, how can this be? That's impossible! Run!”

Positive distractions and a few additions

As my health slowly takes a turn upward, I'm feeling a bit more like my old self. I have quite a few projects on my docket and the brain juices are just starting to warm. Now if only the outdoors were warming also. March is finally here and as many of you (that live in the north eastern states, and perhaps elsewhere) know, it has come in like a white ice lion, and the old homestead still remains buried under six feet of snow. But in my mind's eye, I'm picturing yellow daffodils and prancing lambs on a verdant hillock beneath a radiant sky.