No. He's just being considerate of my wishes.
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Are You A Author?
- Thread starter Salty Booger
- Start date
No. He's just being considerate of my wishes.
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
Nothing at the moment, been floating a couple ideas.
Thanks. I plan to SPAM this place.
I've got to run off to an appointment. I'll get back to you later.
All you can do is try. If nothing else, writing is a creative outlet, and a therapy of sorts. Best wishes.
Clear it with the admins to be on the safe side, but you've already got my vote.
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
My own personal purchasing history started with Kindle versions but I have gravitated back to paperback.
Joking ... I may mention it twice.
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
They advertise. Maybe they would float a banner if you paid them...?
I'm too broke, and most people here are subscribed so they don't see ads. But it'll be on Kindle for dirt cheap. My writing isn't about money, but spreading cheer. But thanks for the idea. All ideas are welcomed.
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
How does the print version work? Cost and quantity? If you don't mind me asking?
Eyes to See
Well-Known Member
I have a few short stories that are in print. The first one that was published was when I was 13 and I wrote in to a local magazine in Denver about science fiction. I don't even remember what the name of that magazine was. I think I got around $300 for it. That was a lot for me back then.
I've written longer stories, including 2 novel sized, one around 150,000 words, and another about 200,000 words but have never tried publishing them. I've done that more just for my own enjoyment. I have always taken pleasure in writing.
A simple short story of mine:
The Wake of the Wind
There are moments in a person’s life, if one so has the fortune, that can melt away the cold of the restless world, as the rays of the morning sun lift away the dew from the grass on a cold spring’s morning. A mere moment in time, perhaps just a fleeting one, like the skipping of a heartbeat, that are worth more than all the gold in the world.
When that moment arrives what do you do with it? Do you recognize it for what it is, for what is being offered, or do you sit by and watch it pass on like two ships on the wake of the wind. Whose sails pass briefly, just a moment in time, a mere exhalation, but one that can take your breath away, make you tremble with anticipation, the way the golden aspen leaves tremble on a cool autumn’s breeze. Do you let the sails align, or do you let them drift apart on the vast pristine ocean of blue we call life?
It was simply supposed to be a vacation, a get-away from the mere routine of a mundane life, a nine-to-five job, and endless stress. And yet there I was torn between two worlds. One that I had entered and had stolen my heart, like a thief in the night, and one that I was comfortable with.
That moment for me came on my second evening at the beach. I was walking along the seashore contemplating the gentle lap of the ocean’s peaceful waves against the beach, sifting its warm sands between my toes, enjoying the peaceful gentle breeze rushing softly against my face. The sky to the west was painted beautiful hues of orange and red, and far off on the horizon a thundercloud just popped its head out, trying to menace in the distance as it lit up with lightning, but too far in the distance to be heard or to be concerned about.
The pace of life was so much more peaceful here. The cares of the world, seemed to melt away. I felt myself smiling as I looked up to see who approached. And while I can say that the beauty of this tropical paradise had already taken my heart, the beauty of what stood before me took what was left remaining. She was perfection. Long black flowing hair, big black eyes, a beautiful body covered only by a red bikini, and a wonderful smile on her face. She was laughing and chasing a hat that was drifting in the breeze. Her eyes met mine and she smiled, I returned the smile, and felt myself melt, like honey on a hot day. That’s all I could do to describe it. I quickly lurched for the hat and found myself being splashed by the cool ocean’s waves that were steadily approaching high tide.
I walked forward and offered the hat to the woman who took it and smiled at me as a reward. I could not speak her language, and I foolishly tried to introduce myself. She just laughed and offered me a hand. I took it, gentle but firm in my hand, and told her I was pleased to meet her. Not long after we met and were trying to converse, two others came running to join us. No doubt they were her friends. They all insisted on me joining them, with hand gestures and giggles that got the point across without actual language that I could understand.
We laughed and drinked, and danced, until the silvery moon had finished casting its faithful gaze over the ocean and had set in the west. A man who was playing a guitar had long since begun to snore, and the rest of the people had drifted off to sleep under the beautiful stars that painted the early morning night overhead. The bonfire had died down, only embers were left, as I was left staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and would ever want to meet again.
She was simple and kind. Fun and vibrant. And there she was now, just me and her, and the darkness, and the ocean, and the stars overhead. I had taken her hand in mine. And she had taken the liberty to lay her head on my shoulder. Time seemed to stand still. Then I leaned over and like a boy trying to steal his first kiss, my lips brushed against hers. Tasted of the salt from the ocean that had sprayed them. Then found myself lost in the passion of her loving arms as way laid back on the sand.
The week passed by like mere moments. She knew not my language, I scarcely knew enough words in hers to get by on very basic conversation. But I knew I was in love. And my heart knew that the vacation was coming to an end. I had to return home.
I looked at my watch, if the flight was going to be on time I would be in the air within the hour. Then my eyes gaze focused out the airport window off toward the ocean. I felt my heart was still there. I looked down to the airplane ticket in my hand and then again to the watch on my wrist. I knew why I kept looking at the time.
Then I heard her voice, as beautiful to my ears as the scent of rose petals are to smell. I was sure it was my imagination, but I looked up to see her standing there, tears in her eyes. The departure light turned on as my airplane taxied to a halt and people hurriedly began to unboard. Why were they in a hurry, I wondered to myself.
She stepped forward hesitantly. I stepped forward. Her body brushed against mine, and I found myself lost in her lips, as tears streamed down her face. I wiped them away and felt a tear come to my own. It was time to board. I had to let her go.
You see, there are moments in a person’s life, if one so has the fortune, moments where they are aware of such joy and bliss. When that moment arrives what do you do with it? Do you recognize it for what it is, for what is being offered, or do you sit by and watch it pass on like two ships on the wake of the wind.
I smiled to myself as I watched the jetliner fly overhead. I was in a Jeep, at the wheel, with my love, my heart, hanging on to my right arm, with the beach on my left, and a new world, a new life before me.
I've written longer stories, including 2 novel sized, one around 150,000 words, and another about 200,000 words but have never tried publishing them. I've done that more just for my own enjoyment. I have always taken pleasure in writing.
A simple short story of mine:
The Wake of the Wind
There are moments in a person’s life, if one so has the fortune, that can melt away the cold of the restless world, as the rays of the morning sun lift away the dew from the grass on a cold spring’s morning. A mere moment in time, perhaps just a fleeting one, like the skipping of a heartbeat, that are worth more than all the gold in the world.
When that moment arrives what do you do with it? Do you recognize it for what it is, for what is being offered, or do you sit by and watch it pass on like two ships on the wake of the wind. Whose sails pass briefly, just a moment in time, a mere exhalation, but one that can take your breath away, make you tremble with anticipation, the way the golden aspen leaves tremble on a cool autumn’s breeze. Do you let the sails align, or do you let them drift apart on the vast pristine ocean of blue we call life?
It was simply supposed to be a vacation, a get-away from the mere routine of a mundane life, a nine-to-five job, and endless stress. And yet there I was torn between two worlds. One that I had entered and had stolen my heart, like a thief in the night, and one that I was comfortable with.
That moment for me came on my second evening at the beach. I was walking along the seashore contemplating the gentle lap of the ocean’s peaceful waves against the beach, sifting its warm sands between my toes, enjoying the peaceful gentle breeze rushing softly against my face. The sky to the west was painted beautiful hues of orange and red, and far off on the horizon a thundercloud just popped its head out, trying to menace in the distance as it lit up with lightning, but too far in the distance to be heard or to be concerned about.
The pace of life was so much more peaceful here. The cares of the world, seemed to melt away. I felt myself smiling as I looked up to see who approached. And while I can say that the beauty of this tropical paradise had already taken my heart, the beauty of what stood before me took what was left remaining. She was perfection. Long black flowing hair, big black eyes, a beautiful body covered only by a red bikini, and a wonderful smile on her face. She was laughing and chasing a hat that was drifting in the breeze. Her eyes met mine and she smiled, I returned the smile, and felt myself melt, like honey on a hot day. That’s all I could do to describe it. I quickly lurched for the hat and found myself being splashed by the cool ocean’s waves that were steadily approaching high tide.
I walked forward and offered the hat to the woman who took it and smiled at me as a reward. I could not speak her language, and I foolishly tried to introduce myself. She just laughed and offered me a hand. I took it, gentle but firm in my hand, and told her I was pleased to meet her. Not long after we met and were trying to converse, two others came running to join us. No doubt they were her friends. They all insisted on me joining them, with hand gestures and giggles that got the point across without actual language that I could understand.
We laughed and drinked, and danced, until the silvery moon had finished casting its faithful gaze over the ocean and had set in the west. A man who was playing a guitar had long since begun to snore, and the rest of the people had drifted off to sleep under the beautiful stars that painted the early morning night overhead. The bonfire had died down, only embers were left, as I was left staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and would ever want to meet again.
She was simple and kind. Fun and vibrant. And there she was now, just me and her, and the darkness, and the ocean, and the stars overhead. I had taken her hand in mine. And she had taken the liberty to lay her head on my shoulder. Time seemed to stand still. Then I leaned over and like a boy trying to steal his first kiss, my lips brushed against hers. Tasted of the salt from the ocean that had sprayed them. Then found myself lost in the passion of her loving arms as way laid back on the sand.
The week passed by like mere moments. She knew not my language, I scarcely knew enough words in hers to get by on very basic conversation. But I knew I was in love. And my heart knew that the vacation was coming to an end. I had to return home.
I looked at my watch, if the flight was going to be on time I would be in the air within the hour. Then my eyes gaze focused out the airport window off toward the ocean. I felt my heart was still there. I looked down to the airplane ticket in my hand and then again to the watch on my wrist. I knew why I kept looking at the time.
Then I heard her voice, as beautiful to my ears as the scent of rose petals are to smell. I was sure it was my imagination, but I looked up to see her standing there, tears in her eyes. The departure light turned on as my airplane taxied to a halt and people hurriedly began to unboard. Why were they in a hurry, I wondered to myself.
She stepped forward hesitantly. I stepped forward. Her body brushed against mine, and I found myself lost in her lips, as tears streamed down her face. I wiped them away and felt a tear come to my own. It was time to board. I had to let her go.
You see, there are moments in a person’s life, if one so has the fortune, moments where they are aware of such joy and bliss. When that moment arrives what do you do with it? Do you recognize it for what it is, for what is being offered, or do you sit by and watch it pass on like two ships on the wake of the wind.
I smiled to myself as I watched the jetliner fly overhead. I was in a Jeep, at the wheel, with my love, my heart, hanging on to my right arm, with the beach on my left, and a new world, a new life before me.
Last edited:
Audie
Veteran Member
"A author". Have you joined my campaign against unnecessary consonants and for more global stops?
I write endlessly. I edit really, really occasionally -- and who can edit themselves, anyway?
But to "be an author," I have to suppose one would have to write what others might wish to purchase -- so, tragically, grievously, no.
But to "be an author," I have to suppose one would have to write what others might wish to purchase -- so, tragically, grievously, no.
When I was still doing the career science path, I got a few publications out of that I suppose. Then there's writing for my religious tradition that will never see anyone else's eyes. And all the writing I do as a tabletop RPG game master. There was a time I cared about being published, but I don't really care anymore so I haven't bothered. I don't doubt there are at least half a dozen books I could pull from my religious writings, and dozens of stories for mass market fiction between the stuff I do for RPGs and the stuff that just goes on in my head. But there is enough noise in the world. I do not need to add to it, and little to nothing I would add would be really worthwhile.
Reminds me of a quote on the topic, but I can't remember who said it.
"The last thing the world needs is another book."
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
I am an opponent of any limitations on free expression.
Audie
Veteran Member
I am an opponent of any limitations on free expression.
Yeah! Another to join the League of Glottal Stopists!
Salty Booger
Royal Crown Cola (RC)
Pe'haps just a supporter of the cause. I will buy their t-shirt at the website to show my support, replacing my
Che Guevara rag.
Glottal stop - Wikipedia
For the last 18 years, about 60% of my income has come from authoring books on computer programming and about 30% from editing books on computer programming, and 10% from (believe it or not), horse training Depending on how you count 2nd and 3rd and 4th editions I've had between seven and 13 books published.
For me, shifting gears into "it's time to write a book" mode is really taxing. Once I've made the shift and I'm 100% in "authoring mode", it's very satisfying, but for me, it's very demanding.
Depending on how you count 2nd and 3rd and 4th editions I've had between seven and 13 books published. For me, shifting gears into "it's time to write a book" mode is really taxing. Once I've made the shift and I'm 100% in "authoring mode", it's very satisfying, but for me, it's very demanding.