Hello, Dear and Forgiving Readers! (And the Twitter Writing Community who wouldn’t be caught dead reading my blog.)
I need your help!
Seeing as how I’m starting to flesh out some modicum of a presence on Twitter, I probably need to churn out some useful blog posts (before I’m blacklisted by all you fine folks, never to be clicked again).
All of this begs the question (it doesn’t, I was just looking for a dramatic transition), what should an author of fiction blog about?
Otherwise known as Edmund J. Asher’s top ten favorite authors (an unequivocal opinion). Yes, this is a D20 list. The die has already been cast, because you showed up late, and the die has decided to go traditional. A top ten list.
So here they are, the ten best writers, in no particular order. You can’t ask me to do that.
[This isn’t even remotely close to what I sat down to write this morning. I’m not asking you to accept the conclusion, because I don’t. It’s just what flowed today. I want to give it a trigger warning, but I feel like I shouldn’t. That’s your warning. I’m going to consider this draft the final product and never look at it again.]
It’s Tuesday again! (They say it’s a new Tuesday, but it feels the same. Like a week long groundhog day, made longer by the fact that my wife won’t let us watch Russian Doll until it has concluded… in it’s entirety.)
But Tuesday. And it’s on the tail end of Valentine’s day, so I figured our song this week would have to be Wham! (I said so last week, and I’m a man of my word. Because I said I am.)
Children in the midst of nightmare are an unnerving sight. You try to speak to them through their anguished wails, assure them with a touch, only to be pushed away by their flailing limbs. Even when they finally wake, they’re so dazed you can’t be sure they’re conscious. Can’t be sure they know where they are, or who you are. Their fear persists, eventually dying down to a whimper, which eventually subsides to sleep.