Every since I was a kid, I have enjoyed stories. I was and am still an avid reader. I can remember making up stuff, weird elaborate games and ongoing tales that had no end. I always have had a daydream rolling through my head.

So a few years ago I decided I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a few poems and a big chunk of a novel. I pull it out and play with it periodically and it currently sits at 35,000 words. Too long for a short story and too short for a novel. UGH…

So I have gotten most of the first three chapters rewritten. I am moving the story from Montana to New Mexico and adding a heckuva a lot of detail. Additionally, I am rewriting the ending. Actually eliminating the last 10 chapters or so and then adding an epilogue. This hopefully will get the writing bug awakened again.

Actually i think it already has. A second story keeps pushing its way forward in my head, crowding to get out. So I guess I will indulge it for a while tonite and get some of that story down.

Poetry would be nice…its much shorter…unless of course, you are writing “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” or some craziness like that. But I haven’t felt poetic in some time. Ah well….

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