Confession, they say, is good for the soul. So I’m over fifty and haven’t broken through to the paid writers’ club. I write under a pseudonym. I love taboo topics. To be a writer, I’m told, you have to get out and promote your stuff. I wonder how you do that with a false identity. Mine is a matter of necessity. Although I’m half-a-century on, I have family members way ahead of me. They don’t know what I do with my free time. My family tend to be conservative Christians. There are some words I’ve never heard uttered in my humble homestead. Words that, if you want to be a realistic writer, you’ve got to use. Not to mention the ideas that the Bible strictly forbids. I live in my head. My daily existence is unremarkable. That’s one reason that I write. The other day I was reading about some people, in real life, stranded in an isolated location. They had to do what they could to survive. A...
Blog of a struggling writer.