That’s right. Manifesto Monday on a Wednesday. That’s how far behind I am. I could change it to Manifesto Wednesday but that would sound stupid. I’m saving Wednesday for Writing Prompts.
Besides, I like it. Sounds like a D&D ripoff. Manifestos and Mondays. Sounds intimidating. I’d rather face a dragon than a Monday anytime.
Before you get psyched about Monday’s being delegated to Manifestos, know this. Manifesto Monday is a one Monday sort of thing.
It simply wouldn’t be productive to put out a manifesto every week. My apologies for those that were looking forward to it.
Manifesto. Now I’m just saying it. I like the word.
Like saying Moist.
Alright. So, what were we doing? A manifesto. How could I have forgotten? Let’s just google (does saying google help my search results?) that to make sure I’ve got everything ready.
A public declaration of policy and aims…
I’m embarrassed to admit that I could have sworn it had something to do with necromancy… My wife is going to be absolutely livid when she sees this circle on the floor… What am I going to do with all these bodies?
No. You know what? I can do this. Let me just change out of my robe real quick.
Policy and aims.
Let’s do this.
Manifesto (of a Non-Necromantic Variety) Monday
This post is to inform you, Dear Reader, that I indeed have a plan for this website. To inform you that I have some semblance of a fucking clue what I’m doing.
This may not be as exciting as what I actually had planned.
But stick around.
I’ll do the corpses later.
Where Are We Going?
By we, I mean you, me, my website, and this pile of bodies.
When I started up this blog, I was putting on this front of being someone who doesn’t say messed up shit.
How could I possibly build a platform by being myself? I was also making the mistake of trying to build a platform. One of those misleading buzzwords.
Now, I want to build a community. The distinction?
A platform either elevates one above their followers (I’ve weighed the pros and cons. I simply can’t manage a cult on top of everything else at the moment.) or it makes me a fucking monkey dancing for your amusement.
That’s not what I am.
Alright, I am.
But I want your monkey asses dancing right along with me.
I want to speak with you. I want to see what you create. I want to hear what you think of my work. Really. Honestly. If you think something can be done better, tear me apart. (Metaphorically of course… unless it’s really that bad. No. Metaphorically please. I’m a sadist. Not a masochist… not that much of one at least.)
We can help each other grow. We can enjoy ourselves.
I want this to be a place for creativity. I want to inspire that. Because, at the moment, I’m no damned good for instructing. I’m learning as I go. Learn with me.
Sure, I’ll give insight to my methods. But, as you will notice, my “Writing Advice?” section ends with a question mark.
Pronounce it with the raise of your inflection. Writing Advice?
Whether you want to write stories, build worlds, or anything else. I intend that section to be a resource. I’ll delve into many areas of research and how it pertains to my writing. A writer must wear many hats. It’s like the jobs that Dirty Jobs can’t air on television.
Whatever your creative pursuits, we will embrace you.
You are an actor? Great. You write with the expressions of your body.
You paint (or some other form of putting image on paper or whatever you decide to art on)? You write with those images. A picture is worth a thousand words. (Though I would argue that a thousand quality words take less time than a quality piece of art. So, hah! Who can churn out more quality? Me or you? But doesn’t that dilute your value, having more quantity? No. Moving on.)
Maybe it’s your greatest desire to be a meat sculptor! (My intent for bringing that up may be selfish. I’ve recently found myself in the market for someone that can help me out with repurposing all this meat.)
I’d like to help raise up other writers/artists in the same position as myself. Starting from the ground up and trying to make something for themselves.
Even if you have no aspiration to create, you can be entertained. I write stories, of course. Dark ones. Funny ones. A blurring of the two.
Read some stuff. I have stories up. I’m working on books.
Maybe you’ll enjoy it. Maybe you’ll wonder how I’ve managed to stay out of an insane asylum. But you’ll still enjoy it.
You don’t want to know what happens if you find out they don’t.
Who are they?
Don’t worry about it.
Voices in My Head
I’m slowly finding my voice. My authentic voice. I’m somewhat prone to emulation if I immerse myself in someone else’s work (I can tell some stories about that) and lately I’ve been reading a lot of Chuck Wendig and Robert Bevan, so…
But I’m starting to settle into my voice. A voice that will lend itself well to my work. Yes, my first blog posts were horribly bland. As I find most blogs are.
Really, go take a look every once in a while. I think people are just afraid to be themselves. Maybe I have good reason to be, but too late now. This train doesn’t stop.
This voice reflects my work. It’s dark. At the same time it can be humorous. I’m sarcastic. I’ve been told I am witty. I like being told that.
It’s taken some time to dig this voice up (That’s true for digging up anything. Digging is hard. Have you ever tried to exhume a corpse… or just dig a ditch?)
Just because it has taken me some time to reveal this voice doesn’t mean its not authentic. This is the voice I smother while sitting around the dinner table at family gatherings.
The voice that told me to compare the price of steak at Brookshire’s to the price of human meat on the black market. (The black market is cheaper.)
It’s my serial killer voice. After all, writing is equal parts murder and imagination. Maybe that’s just me?
But who among us doesn’t have a murderer inside, just waiting to rip their way out?
Also just me? In my defense, I have a lot of different people in my head just dying to get out.
What? That doesn’t help my case? But I’m a writer. That’s where my stories come from.
I’m starting to feel like you all have me at a disadvantage. Let’s move on to the next goal.
My Family Has to Eat
Preferably food from the Wal-Mart, like everyone else. The neighborhood dogs are going missing and fingers are starting to point at me.
But this brings me to a topic that I’m uncomfortable with.
You may be saying, “You talk about death like it’s going out of fashion but money has you squirming?”
First of all, death is never going out of style. Existential dread is here to stay.
Second of all, yes.
Full disclosure. I do want you to buy my books. Once I get around to writing them.
My first publication, a short story in an anthology, is coming soon. I’m not going to see a dime of that money.
I know for a fact I would write and do this whole blog nonsense even if it never made me a dime.
Because it hasn’t and I’m here doing it. I’m fortunate enough to be in a position where I can make a full-time attempt at turning this into a career.
That doesn’t mean I’m made of money. I’m not eccentric billionaire Edmund Asher. I’m a… what’s the word for a guy with $4.37?
An eccentric four-bucks-thirty-seven-centsionaire. I suppose that means you can read eccentric as crazy.
And maybe I’m exaggerating. But I’m not rich by any stretch of the imagination. And imagination stretching is what I’m good at. That’s what I’m paid to do…
Wait… no… we have just established that I’m not paid.
How do I intend to remedy this while we all eagerly await my books?
My first (slight) implementation has been affiliate marketing. I want to go further into this. I need to find products that my readers would appreciate.
Because I hate when people shove useless shit off on me.
I started with Siteground, my webhost.
Why not? I made a website. It works great. I’m doing my creative thing because of them. It was affordable (I could have gone a free route, but I saw benefit to this).
So maybe you want a fucking website. My affiliate link is sitting on a page by itself at the moment because I’m not quite ready to shovel shit, even good shit, down anyone’s throat.
I suppose if you want hosting through them, you can click here. No, that’s not the affiliate link. That’s just a link to my affiliate page. Go wild.
If you want me as an affiliate for a product that you think is a good fit (writing related, tabletop gaming related, creative process related) hit me up.
I’m looking into this.
If you have something you could use a writer on, let me know. Again, my preference be that it is relatable to what I do.
Fiction and world building. Genre is flexible.
Writing and so on.
If I’m not a fit, maybe a future community member could be. Sharing opportunities.
Agenda point… I’ve lost count…
Maybe this is ambitious. But the world I’ve built is vast. From small details to big picture. It has a lot of content.
I am of the strong opinion that my work will become popular.
I want to eventually create material, outside of my books, that I would want to purchase.
One such product being tabletop miniatures of my characters. Maybe a game system for my world. Because, while I’m first and foremost a writer. I’m also a nerd.
If you are part of the community that could help to make that a reality, I’m interested. I don’t know that the timeframe I have in mind is necessarily soon. I’m just putting this information out there.
No, I don’t have one. I’m curious about it.
What do I have to offer a patron?
Advanced insight into a world that is fifteen years in the making?
An early look into my novel?
What are your experiences with Patreon? I’m hesitant because I’m unsure of the demands. If I am to create exclusive content for paying members, what of the work I place here on my blog?
My novel. Does it make you so dependent on appeasing them that your work suffers?
If you have relevant experience with it, what is it?
Beyond all of this money talk, what do I want to accomplish with my work and in my community?
Of what sort?
In my life, I have encountered and experienced much in the way of mental illness and depression.
It is central to much of what I write about. Most of my characters are tortured inwardly just as much as by their outside world.
They say write what you know.
In what way I want to help this cause, I haven’t determined yet. But it is here. A statement of my goals.
I’m building this. Twisted as my perspective may be, this is what I’m doing.
Building a community, if anyone would have me.
Being of some use to my community, whether it be as a resource for their creativity or for their entertainment.
Supporting my life with my writing, if anyone will read it.
Using that support to do more of what I love and give back to causes that I see benevolent purpose in.
Maybe this post was more for myself than anything else.
Maybe you think that if I quit talking about killing, then I could be successful. My response… the Mafia is successful. Plus, plenty of killers get fan mail out the ass.
And they killed real people.
As far as you know, I’ve only killed people in my writing.