K. Marvin Bruce

Just yesterday I found out another academic colleague is a wannabe novelist.   Unaware that I had written six novels and more short stories than I can count (I don’t have that many fingers), she asked me if I knew anything about getting an agent.   My response: I know a lot about NOT getting an agent. You see, a friend of mine knows an agent.   He introduced us via email.   The agent kindly agreed to consider my Medusa novel, even though two weeks later he forgot who I was.   At least he read it.   No other agent has.   Didn’t sway him, though. I spend some time on Medium.com .   They have some great stuff about writing.   They won’t care to read much of your stuff unless you’ve had more success than I have, but then, I’ve got a nine-to-five and I take my writing way too seriously. Hearing from my professorial colleague got me excited about my fiction again.   Problem is I’ve got a non-fiction tome under contr...

A friend who is also a writer sent me a story to read.  It is a rare and distinct pleasure to read what other unknown writers write.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but his story, as always, captivated me with secrets he wasn’t telling.  He writes well. My friend studied mythology in college.  His stories draw from the characters of the Classics.  This isn’t a bad place to look for ideas.  I sometimes use the Bible for the same purposes.  The old stories never seem to wear out. Another friend, this one assures me he is no writer, sends me a story every year.  He writes ghost stories for his nieces and nephews and he includes me because I ask him to.  His stories are uncanny, but they don’t scare.   Both friends write stories with cars.  I stopped to think about this.  Cars have created their own little microcosm where stories play out.  One of my published stories, “Fashion Wear for Gentlemen” takes place mostl...