after a long break with writers block, inspiritation has jumped upon my shoulders once more.
"Man of Deeds" is growing apace (14,000 words plus at present) and indeed seems to be taking a life of it's own, I know what I've planned for an ending, but how the story is taking me there seems to be quite organic. Even I have no idea how the story will progress ... does that qualify it as a mystery story, or what?
Reminds me of a Joke .. "The people on a bus taking a magical mystery tour were placing bets as to their destination ... the driver came second"
Got to go .. the words are tumbling about in my head, got to get them down before I lose them....
Take care,
Love and Peace to all
HJK.











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[my Twitter] - [My Site]
MSN: unamony@hotmail.it
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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The apex of contradiction.
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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I try to be a saint, but I'm only human
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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"Political correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a dilusional, illogical liberal minority, and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end."
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"One can't complain. I have my friends.
Someone spoke to me only yesterday." Eeyore
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