Hello,

It’s bean a while yet. I wish I could say I was off rescuing the world with colorful whit and charm but I like to keep it real with a spot of humor..

I’m been in that moody black place of depression, self doubt and self loathing. I’ve been writing consistently but in a more therapeutic way. I’ve been writing to get out unwanted feelings and trying out styles I normally wouldn’t craft and I’ve been working on my professional side projects that will actually see the light of day.

• In short: I’ve been writing angry fiction and whole lot of bucket full of raw dark comedy/action stuff with a mixture of were-wolves and 45. hand guns.

I still don’t know if I will finish everything on time before November’s kiss welcomes me with the muse of creative energy to do what I haven’t done before.

• Don’t mean me I’m just straighten out my poetic fingers.

But, I’ll give it a shot. Enough about me let’s talk about writing or more to the effect you and writing.

Writing is a interesting exercise in creative freedom and expression and the wonderful opportunity to cut away all the blinders of how life should be and relating to the world how it is.

What am I talking about?

When you’ve been writing long enough there will come a time (If your patient) that you’ll finally get past lying about the nature of reality in regards to human interaction and telling the truth. That’s real fiction my friend.

No.

Correction.

That’s real art. Truth that punches you in the face and is relatable to someone whose felt that way and he/she is comforted. When they (the reader) can read a story that relates to that reality back to them the truth that someone out in the world understands them and their desires.

We all want to get there. To that place were the words connect to the truth and it’s not happenstance or luck of a mystical muse fairy. When your asked about it you can say with a little bit of earned pride. “No. I said it and I meant every word of it. If you felt something from good for you but it was fun writing every word and terror to my soul to admit it.

L. M. Parker