K. Marvin Bruce

I asked my friend and writing partner Elizabeth what I should write about.  It's not that I have writers' block, it's just that sometimes I don't know what aspect of writing to address.  If you're reading this you're probably a writer too.  You'll know what I mean. For a writer, nothing's more important than writing.  Few tragedies in life can't be wrestled with by using our avocation.  Still, sometimes it's hard to say much about writing.  It is.  It exists.  It is greater than the writer. Lately my job has been impinging on my writing.  I have to spend extra hours every day and all that time spent with work-related activity takes time away from what's really important (writing).  I still manage to write some every day, even if it's just fifteen minutes.  Even if it's just a blog post. I recently had a day where I could write for a couple of hours, uninterrupted.  It was an amazingly therapeutic experience!  Instead...

As I sit here lingering on the edge of self-publishing, I decided to read an improbable novel recommended to me by my friend Steve.  Robert Repino’s Mort(e) is an apocalyptic tale about a cat whose single-minded purpose leads to a poignant conclusion.  I won’t spoil it for you; I’m a professional. I’m always encouraged to see madcap novels published.  The Medusa novel I have out with about six publishers at the moment is bat-shit funny.  It is also intelligent, and maybe that’s my problem. I know editors, and they are fallible people.  They have sins just like the rest of us.  Their deadly sin, it seems, is not being able to see the potential in a story that’s clearly got it.  Repino, according to Steve, had a tough time finding a publisher for what is clearly a brilliant novel.  His story gives me hope. It might just be easiest to give up, but when I think this I realize that publishers are starved for good content.  To get to ...