The best advice writers give aspiring writers is this: read. Read a lot. The thing about our species is that we learn by watching what others do. To write is to read. Thing is, I’m an eclectic reader. And my writing, like a snowball, grows from contact with other words. I read literary fiction, I write literary fiction. I read horror, I write horror. I read humor, I write humor. My promiscuous reading leads to the sin of eclectic writing. How do I know it’s a sin? The editors tell me so. The great priestly gatekeepers who hold the means of recognition in their genre-stained hands. Nobody knows what to make of the cross-genre man. The transgender are fine. Encouraged even. But beware the cross-genre man. As I go sinning across the internet, reading a little of this and a little of that, the snowman I’m building starts to look maybe a bit like that of Pig Pen. Did I mention I read childr...
Blog of a struggling writer.