More Shrapnel From the Front

I am embarking upon a quest to become published. I am not certain the form this shall take, though it will likely be either poetry (slim chance) or fantasy (short stories). I have been attempting to hone my writing somewhat, and I now hope to focus my efforts even more, refining until it hurts. Thanks to Kevyn for introducing me to the wonders and necessity of the rewrite, and to Sean and Jenna for yanking me from my vapid state of drooling complacency. From about 2000-2005 I consider myself to have been nothing more than a sonamulist, merely going through the motions of living a life. Then I discovered writing in mid 2005, and finally, this year, the coup de grâce slapped me across the face like a limp and bloated carp (Thanks guys! What about the project? Hello?).

I have some projets in the works, but nothing within the time limits I have set for myself. One of these is the graphic novel I mentioned which I am working on with some incredibly talented individuals. The other is crafting lore for a fantasy project. I am most excited about the graphic novel, because it is, well, novel.

I should like to make it my goal within the next year to have something published in some format, or to at least to make every effort to do so. Consider it a late (or early) New Year‘s Resolution. I am also considering a possible (very tentative at this point) career in journalism (preferably some type of travel writing). I have once again put in for Monterey, and if I get it this year, I think that wondrous clime shall serve to inspire me even further. It will also relieve me of most military duties, and afford me more time to dedicate to the pursuit of my goals. I may return to school this fall, or next Spring (depending on the Monterey thing), and finish that English degree, I really want to take some creative writing classes. I am, dare I say it, excited (could be indigestion).

In the grand scheme, I have three years to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life, and I have two things to go on so far, I want to write, and I do not want to live in Augusta (or even anywhere in the southeastern U.S.). This place is stifling, it chokes the spirit, that they should station us here is a gross joke, I‘d rather be stationed in Baghdad, or the moon. It is impossible to grow here. I feel myself drawn to either of the coasts, perhaps Washington state or Northern California (I have never met a disagreeable person from this area), or New England. New York has its own appeal, some cosmopolitan city on the sea at any rate. My long term goal is, of course, to live outside the U.S., though this will likely have to wait (still saving up for that backpaker's haven I will open someday in some obscure spot on the map).

I am working on reforming myself, serious soul-searching going on here, people. I lost sight of something somehwere, and I aim to get it back, and I at last realize that it is not going to drop out of the sky into my lap, I've got to shoot it down. There is a trip on the horizon, September perhaps (maybe the entire month). I have not worked out all the details, but then I have never been overly concerned with those. I'll let you know when I get there.