I finished my tenth fiction novel last month. It’s a satisfying feeling, and for me, the writing part is the funnest part of the creative process. This particular novel required a lot of research (also very fun), because although is is a genre blend of historical fantasy with horror elements, it is based in a particular time and culture of the past. I still have a lot of work to do before it sees publication, probably sometime next year. In the meantime, I am rebooting my little grey cells out from the world I’ve immersed myself in for the past nine months and giving myself permission to look for a new starting point. Unlike previous novels I’ve written, I don’t really have an idea of what I want to write next, and thus, the Decision Paradox has stopped me cold.
The Decision Paradox could be loosely defined (for me, at least) as an abundance of options actually that requires more effort to choose. Easy enough to say yes to Fiction, but what comes next?
The Genre Decision
Speculative Fiction is my preferred choice. The world-building is fun, and with fantasy, there’s the magical elements (also fun), but I’ve done quite a few of those now. Fantasy is a fantastic choice, but certainly not the only one.
What about Science Fiction? With the recent Artemis mission and Andy Weir’s wildly successful Hail Mary and the recent film release, I expect Science Fiction will soon resurge in popularity. I’ve got the chops and background to do it, and have done it previously.
Horror? Personally, I love horror in all it’s forms and last year’s Sinners is (in my mind) a master class in storytelling. I’ve done it in short stories, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that in a novel.
Thrillers? Love ’em. Love reading them, and action movies are my absolute faves. Want to write one (or more!). It would be something I haven’t tried before, but that is no reason not to do it. I’ve even got books on how to write them (snerk!). Very appealing, and popular with audiences. Leaning very heavily into this direction.
Heists and capers? Love these too. I am thinking you need to be pretty clever to write these. As part of my research/reading of best-selling heist novels published in the last dozen years, it seems to me that the author’s name carried significant weight in the publication decision, as many seem to be (at least to me) co-written with a lesser-known author, and disappointingly shallow. Am I clever enough? I don’t know, but with the right set of circumstances, this could be very fun.
Romance? Nope. Sorry, I know it’s the best-selling fiction genre out there, but it’s not for me. I’m fine with romantic elements or subplots in a novel, but don’t read the romance genre, so writing it isn’t something I would consider.
So here I sit, reading books, watching movies, scrolling through my phone and waiting for an epiphany of inspiration that I know I don’t need in order to start the next novel. Picking a genre is good, but it doesn’t need to be set in stone before I start brainstorming the next novel. All I really need is a character in a setting with a problem.
Time to write.
Years ago, I adopted the ouroboros (one of the oldest known human-created icons) as a personal totem. The image, of a snake eating it’s own tail has been variously interpreted as a symbol of the soul of the world; the ceaseless cycle of existence, where destruction leads to creation. 
After returning all my employer’s equipment for last rites, I’ve sorted my writing desk, cleaned out files, pulled out my yellow pad for notes and got myself a longtime longed-for remote keyboard for the Mac (a 
The election fervor that dominated our national consciousness this year also influenced my reading. I chose to read mostly non-fiction this year. Everything from the architectures of aqueducts to political histories and even several biographies this year. Of particular note was and Autobiography by the Monty Pythons themselves, which I found fascinating and a bio of Winston Churchill that had me marveling at the the man’s accomplishments, but yawning my way through the writer’s words.
Best book by a favorite author was the third volume in John Gwynne’s Bloodsworn Trilogy, The Fury of the Gods. I was champing at the bit to get my hands on this hefty tome. I even glutted myself rereading the first two books in the series first: The Shadow of the Gods and The Hunger of the Gods; the whole series is a winner. This is viking mythology at it’s freshest and very best. Wonderful characters, engrossing world and myth building, impossible choices and a ton of action. I cannot recommend this series enough.
Best new-to-me author was Wesley Chu’s meaty The Art of Prophecy, recommended by a writer friend of mine. The story is fantastic in every way and completely unexpected. All of the rave reviews are right on target. Action galore! This adventure junkie can’t wait to read the rest of the series.
Let me make this clear: my dog’s name is Merlin. He is an Australian Shepherd and I love him dearly. Unreservedly. We’ve lived together for 5 years, and we get along great. No arguments.
Yesterday, I passed them in my car while driving home. I waved and remember thinking that the woman’s dog was undoubtedly the sweetest Border Collie I have ever met. I even thought about telling the woman so. I mean, what if she couldn’t keep the dog any more for some reason? I would take that dog in a skinny minute. And then I thought about Merlin; I don’t think he would want to share my affections. I felt a twinge of guilt.
We had plenty of warning for this monster storm, but that doesn’t make it any less “chilling”. Oregon and much of the Pacific Northwest is hunkered down at home (as we expect to do this time of year) just waiting on/enduring the big blast of frigid air that has come thundering down from the north. Temps tumbled from the upper 30s (degrees Fahrenheit)) at noon yesterday to about 20 in less than 3 hours. Cold, but dry; too dry for snow. The +45mph winds kicked up around 10pm last night (as Merlin and I went for our last walk of the day), and even though I was wearing two parkas, it cut right through all that down. Eye-watering cold. This morning, the thermometer on my balcony (rimmed by pink lights) registered at 20 degrees (with wind chill, we have a ‘feels like’ temperature of 0 degrees (that’s -17 Celsius for my friends in Australia and the UK)), and that is the expected high temperature for today. 
What little snow we’ve seen thus far is just powdered sugar, whipped up by the winds. It’s too cold and dry to be worrisome, but sometime later today, the bitter winds and sub-freezing temps will collide with an atmospheric river of rain driving up from the south and sit right over the Portland area for a couple days. Actually, based on the weather warnings, the heart of the ‘weather event’ is expected to be right over me and several of my writer-peep friends here in Beaverton. I’m keeping an eye on the bird bath and hummingbird feeder, and thawing out both every hour for the birds. I’m also keeping the porch and deck lights on so the birds have a somewhat warmer place to seek shelter fro the wind and cold. Not worried about snow or rain; it’s the ice that will keep me & the dog inside. It’s not a sure thing, so we’ll just have to wait and see.
A few years ago, I gave up the madness of the Christmas season (when people celebrate Chris) for a quieter, nontheistic celebration of the first day of Winter, and the return of the light. I no longer have to face the herds of desperate migrating travelers as we all attempt to reach the lands of our clans. Instead, I spend the ‘me’ day working on my goals and deliverables for the coming year and updating/honing my 5-year strategic plan. I ponder things and think thoughts. 
The past three years have been tough on all of us. The pandemic, the insurrection on January 6th, the horror of mass shootings and senseless murders at the hands of police officers, and an incomprehensible war in Ukraine represented but a few of the headlines in the global news. Add to that our uniquely individual silent traumas, and I think the word tough might actually be an understatement. But wait, this blog post is not going to be about wallowing in negativity. This is a 
It all started a couple of months ago with Amazon Prime. I got a recommendation (as we do) based on my shopping history (which, best as I could tell, was prompted by recent purchases of Ray LaMontaigne’s Trouble and Ouroboros CDs as well as a new The HU, 
With a few exceptions (Robin Williams, Steve Martin) I don’t normally enjoy stand-up comedians; they mostly seem angry and shouty to me. But I watched the 
After this glutting myself on laughter and inspiration, I also reread what I consider to be the best book on writing ever written: 
