tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142012736656859832024-03-14T02:25:54.274-04:00Writing The Hard WayMike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-71014449282894476372022-12-13T12:29:00.001-05:002022-12-13T12:29:45.129-05:00Ramblin' Man 2<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Some days the thoughts come, but the words don’t
follow. You got no flow. This will happen to me depending on the fluctuating moods
I deal with. These past few days, the ideas are there but look like little
rodent shit tracks on the page. Still, I get the gist down on paper—the style
and flow can be fixed later.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sending those first pages can be nerve-wracking. Don’t
send them unless they’re tip-top. You’ll get the urge to send them right away,
critical mistakes and all. Be hard on yourself. Don’t think a prospective agent
will look past any shortcomings. Don’t think the majority of your writing is of
such genius that the agent will look past those plot holes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can’t read modern crime fiction bestsellers. I try
and read these ballyhooed books, and it just makes me sad. They’re so…predictable.
I’m stuck in the past—old-school writers with balls. I mean, who’s the last
writer you read and thought: “That fucker’s got some stones, and I want more.”?
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ve lost interest in almost everything besides
working out and writing. One lights up the voices while the other shuts them
down. It’s becoming blurry on which accomplishes which, though.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Back to those first pages. Preparing them during the
silly season is insane—which should say it all. Initially, I was planning on
sending them this week—I thought I was close. But I started seeing things that,
while looking good style-wise, didn’t jibe with the story. I’m going to give
myself a few more weeks and send pages after the new year. I have to drill that
patience. I have to give myself every opportunity to succeed, or else I’m just
pissing up a rope.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ever had a frozen shoulder? Avoid them—they blow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rolling in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is the closest many of
us will come to Fight Club. You look at things differently when put in highly
uncomfortable situations. You’re always uncomfortable in BJJ—at my game stage,
anyhow. That’s a good thing. We’re all a bunch of panty-waist-pampered zombies,
and it needs to stop. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What happened to male readers? I don’t know
statistics. I only know that none of the guys I talk to regularly read anymore.
You ask them about an author, and they look at you like you proclaimed the moon
is cheese-based. Many of the manliest men I’ve known or read about were
voracious readers—what the hell happened? I want to get them back in the fold.
But does the publishing industry even want that to happen? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m a geek and don’t fit in. I read, write, watch old
movies, work out, and practice BJJ—still searching for chums with similar
tastes. It ain’t easy, my brothers and sisters. My mind is a very solitary
place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My son thinks I’m the cat’s ass—that’s more a
reflection of his nature than mine. He’s beautiful.</span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-21662076874829496462022-10-24T13:56:00.000-04:002022-10-24T13:56:30.053-04:00Running Free<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Haven’t gone anywhere—just the opposite. Working
harder than ever and trying to right some wrongs. Writing will always be more
difficult for some of us. Especially us who are not willing to bend to the
sloppy, virtuous status quo. I’ll find my own way around it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the meantime, I’ve taken up an old hobby: Gracie
Jiu-Jitsu. This art was the main reason I moved to Florida (I didn’t think I
had anything to offer as a writer back then). But I signed my son up and got
myself hooked back in as well. I get a lot of technical brain work while
writing, but I didn’t realize how much technical physical work I also needed.
BJJ is very technical—it’s about finesse, not muscle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing will ever supplant writing for me, though. The
physical aspects of my life (I’m a very physical person) are needed to shut
down the voices in my head, even for a short while. With writing, I get to let
those voices and personalities loose; I get to run crazy-wild with them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Running free in my own dark world is where I feel most
at home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-45456894913773497642022-09-20T16:12:00.000-04:002022-09-20T16:12:07.871-04:00This Bipolar Writer<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I don’t talk about it. Dealing with it takes all I’ve
got on most days—the highs and lows. Never mind the stigmata. It’s been tough
on my family—shit, it’s been tough on me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So why talk about it at all? It might help others
understand my writing—subject, style, and emotions. I cannot help what goes on
in my noggin. And those who walk my road know the gist—whining gets you jack. I
won’t even get into the trauma I’ve inflicted on myself over the
years. That’s a bloody and terrible tale for another day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">My fiancée and I have some interesting
discussions, to say the least: a poor black girl from the hood and a
poor-to-middling white boy from the country. She hasn’t always known about my
situation. Lately, we’ve talked more on the subject—the ebb and flow of moods
and emotions. She doesn’t fully understand why shit’s not lined up in my brain.
The luck of the draw, I tell her. But here’s the deal: she gets it—and that’s
the difference.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What does that mean exactly? There's no coddling (not my scene, man), and she doesn’t give me the old “suck it up” routine (I
don’t shirk a responsibility—never have). She gives me space when the melancholy
hits. When the turn comes, and I’m riding the high, she’s right there with me.
We rock steady.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The roughest aspect: my son. I beat myself up over
him. The sheer confusion of his daddy’s shifting moods—how difficult must it be
for a young child to deal with those valleys and mountains? He’s such a great
kid—easily the single best thing that’s ever happened to me. And somehow, even
with his youth, he gets it too. Never underestimate the beauty and intelligence
of a child.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Perspective: People will treat you differently because
you’re bipolar. People will leave you because you’re bipolar. People will say
it’s a choice to act this way (in some cases, it can be—if you don’t take care
of yourself or give up completely). But, if you’re lucky and have the stones to
let people in, you might find a person or two to back your play. We’ll label it
empathy—fuck sympathy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I deal by putting it down on paper. Everything—balls
deep. I have to write—what’s going down on the page is what’s going down inside.
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I don’t have a choice but to write</i>.
And I won’t stop.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I hope you won’t either.</span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-14105224234814244712022-08-29T16:50:00.006-04:002022-09-13T11:44:05.546-04:00When Shit Goes South<p>I listen to Waylon Jennings.</p><p>9/13/22 Update: I'm listening to too much of old Watasha. </p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-57588156155130027032022-07-27T10:42:00.001-04:002022-07-27T20:02:28.509-04:00Zurich, KS—Twelve Years Later<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCi3MG_ZiJvAQroLDx7iotjFyirQfZ1wgOnX6BJgKIudL2rv_Gg0FwNy5kFKONf93gLfZpd2B1QuQGlzU3VVZlnlgokOX20Y8sn38AOOL0RdLEgg67Fc-Oqwri4oD6BlHEKGLvpAlEc8xEIYpp3aRzoEvdDArBTz7X90grRiNdswAQBD9Lki5bhnx3A/s500/Zurich.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCi3MG_ZiJvAQroLDx7iotjFyirQfZ1wgOnX6BJgKIudL2rv_Gg0FwNy5kFKONf93gLfZpd2B1QuQGlzU3VVZlnlgokOX20Y8sn38AOOL0RdLEgg67Fc-Oqwri4oD6BlHEKGLvpAlEc8xEIYpp3aRzoEvdDArBTz7X90grRiNdswAQBD9Lki5bhnx3A/s320/Zurich.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I recently took a road trip to my native homeland. My
family has never left the area, and I’d been long out of touch. Zurich and the
surrounding area shaped my life—both good and bad. I grew up there learning a
work ethic seemingly forgotten in our current times. Along the way, I also rode those first critical waves of life experiences, both wonderful and horrible, that would influence the remainder of
my life. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Upon arrival, I drove my fiancé through town (my
parents live south of Zurich, in the country). I was shocked at the state of my
childhood stomping grounds. I didn’t even snap photos—I didn’t and don’t want
to remember it like this. The accompanying photo of Saindon’s corner store (beautiful
memories), bank (the bank was gone even as a kid), poolhall (ditto), and Post
Office (we didn’t have an address growing up—only a PO box) was kiped off the
internet. Currently, with a population of around 85 people, the town seems to
be falling in on itself. Like its pride has been stripped away by the heat and
ever-present winds of the plains. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Not to say Zurich was ever booming in my time. But
there were always kids out playing, and now there are none. People kept their
properties up, and now very few do. What holds it together and keeps the town
alive are its exceptional people—rogues and prudent citizens alike.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I was able to experience this with the two most important
people in my life: my nine-year-old son and fiancé, both city dwellers since
birth. My little cowboy loved it—driving four-wheelers, riding lawn mowers, and
discovering animals in their natural habitat. And I believe my girl, despite
her upbringing (which was rough), is a country girl at heart. Both of them
thrived. Both loved the overwhelming freedom of the rolling plains and the
quiet that permeates and calms.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">While the state of my old hometown is hard to take,
the people draw me back and will continue to do so. I miss and love Zurich and
Kansas. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I love what being raised rural gave me.</span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-42586799259787580342022-06-06T19:59:00.004-04:002022-06-07T08:55:41.096-04:00Classic Crime Movie: The Case Against Brooklyn<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnm6RRPdxJ2vaI7rRF4tI4lozHHlZZyiXhQZD8P6b2Gb9MrbdAiOVhEvtgwI6Ojh3Ckg31ayfQHOSJ8bZpSTD1l_VX00UtL4CPuiiDOJIJKm8wTpLMaWCs64gw3EIcpMUO1WIQBfNkUZ2n6LwjWdU1EjMyUfvsaO_HQuqk4iE7rApPpacDhd6thAX5LA/s500/The%20Case%20Against%20Brooklyn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="353" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnm6RRPdxJ2vaI7rRF4tI4lozHHlZZyiXhQZD8P6b2Gb9MrbdAiOVhEvtgwI6Ojh3Ckg31ayfQHOSJ8bZpSTD1l_VX00UtL4CPuiiDOJIJKm8wTpLMaWCs64gw3EIcpMUO1WIQBfNkUZ2n6LwjWdU1EjMyUfvsaO_HQuqk4iE7rApPpacDhd6thAX5LA/s320/The%20Case%20Against%20Brooklyn.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: black;">As a classic film noir junkie, I’m always prowling
for new material. I came across this and was hooked from the get-go. A rookie
cop looking to climb the ranks and doing whatever it takes to make it happen—oh
hell yes! The plot is solid. The acting is outstanding—Darren McGavin, as the
new recruit, takes it to the hilt. McGavin is one of those forgotten actors, good
in every damn role he played (Christmas Story and The Natural are his most
notable). The supporting cast is right up there as well.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">“The Case Against Brooklyn” (1958) is a new favorite and provides insight into what I'm working to achieve in my writing. Check it out—you’ll dig it.</span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-13674063465262795622022-06-01T13:51:00.000-04:002022-06-01T13:51:29.700-04:00Don't Chase the Rabbit<p></p><p><span style="color: black;">The rabbit being comparable titles recently
published. I'm unwilling to fall into this chasm of nothingness. I read older
books—masters who paved the way. Most crime writing today is watered-down
bullshit meant not to offend. Writing pure doesn't cause offense. Instead, it
offers a more accurate snapshot of how life was and is—not how we would like it
to be to make ourselves feel justified and superior and enlightened. Do we
really believe that someone living on the fringes wants to read some whitewashed
dribble? Do you think they cannot handle the language involved—the language
which is theirs, to begin with?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Ignorance is one thing. Naivete is another.</span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-17850476779116445492022-05-20T10:12:00.000-04:002022-05-20T10:12:07.557-04:00Focused<p></p><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve been playing around
with a few short stories. I’m having a hard time getting motivated on them,
though. After writing a 102k word novel, shorts feel like premature
ejaculation—it’s okay, but I want more. I want to move forward with the next
book in the series and focusing on anything other than my vision for this
continuing crime saga is rough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My issue is thoughts
sometimes get muddled. I overthink things, overdo things—you know the drill.
Getting hung up on the potential agent outcome will fuck with any writer’s head
and send them on various mental escapades. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Existential issues
aside, I’m going to put my head down and work—on all fronts. Writers write, and
that’s the gist. I’ll work on the short stories and notes for the next book. I
enjoy the information gathering and thought process—brooding over such things
keeps me centered. I dig the writing process too goddamn much. I’m not going to
settle for the <i>idea</i> of being an
author versus working hard to be one.</span></span></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-47391717849625229742022-05-06T08:18:00.001-04:002022-05-06T08:18:57.134-04:00Query and Synopsis: Multiple Versions?<p></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I started my query and synopsis long before my manuscript was completed. A
rough process. You can research a hundred queries and as many synopses and
still screw up your own. I figured waiting until my novel was absolutely
complete would not be a smart move. I knew these two items were important. Each
time I got bogged down in my writing, I’d switch to my query or synopsis for a
bit. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The first go-around, I tried hard to get the information in there. I figured
agents need to know this shit, right? Then again, I also concluded that adding
in more might come across as a lack of confidence. Agents are busy—long queries
probably get nixed routinely. I could be wrong, but who the hell knows.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I wrote a couple of query and synopsis options: long, short, and varying
word choices—every other agent wants something different. And it allows me to
sound them out, seeing if one flows better than the other. At the very least, I’m
not scrambling to start a document from scratch with each successive
query. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">All of the above may be considered moot until I land an agent. But being
prepared—giving it your all—is always the best course of action. It’s the only
damn way I know how to do things.</span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-11878585618168369992022-05-03T10:21:00.003-04:002022-05-03T10:24:31.315-04:00Writing, Reading, Working Out<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m a geek—more on that later.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The query process is ongoing. Slow going. I’m
maintaining my writing schedule in the meantime, which is essential. Dig that
old saying: do something, even if it’s wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve also started working out full-bore again. I
always try to maintain my physical well-being but going all-in is different. I
do it for my body and my brain—a hard workout can take your mind off things. It’s
good for your soul. If more people did some sort of strenuous manual labor
every day, we’d be happier overall. One doesn’t worry about crap when you’re
balls deep in digging, lifting, or carrying. And when you’re in pain, the
voices in your head stop screaming—a bonus to consider.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Currently reading: "Jackson Pollock: An American Saga”.
This is a massive biography. I like Pollock’s art, even though I know jack
about art. The person is more interesting to me—relatability, I suppose. I migrate toward biographies about men who struggle but never stop.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Listening to: American Pastoral by Philip Roth. Straight-up
literature is rough for me at times. Overly long sentences and paragraphs.
Overly wrought descriptions. In other words, it takes a long time to get to the
point. I’m enjoying this listen—an ultimately deep dive into having and then
losing everything. I have an omnibus of Roth’s work but could never get past a
few pages. Somehow, the audiobook makes it feasible—and makes me want to read
the words.</span></span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-24058163716396248782022-04-26T17:02:00.000-04:002022-04-26T17:02:23.231-04:00Appreciating Brevity<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Querying is strictly the rat’s ass.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It’s not the rejection that’s difficult to handle. It’s
the waiting and having the patience and will to keep writing (and eating and exercising and staying sane) in the meantime, even when you
have no idea what the response will ultimately be. It’s faith, baby.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">That’s pretty much all I’ve got to say today.</span></span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-78590970792654624982022-04-21T08:45:00.002-04:002022-04-21T08:52:56.803-04:00Ramblin' Man<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I sometimes watch Noir Alley on TCM just for the Eddie
Muller intro. Eddie’s the balls, man. I wonder if the fucker even uses a
teleprompter—so much passion for his subject. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A great narrator can make your favorite book an event—better
than any movie you’ll ever watch. My favorite narrators are Christopher Lane
and Scott Brick. I never understood how funny American Tabloid is until I heard
Christopher Lane’s reading (maybe my sense of humor is a bit…well…). And I
never realized the true and misguided passion of White Jazz until listening to
Scott Brick’s recital. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kids are great. They have no fucking agenda other than
wanting to be happy. Adults, even the best of us, always have an agenda.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of my favorite biographies is “A Tragic Honesty,
The Life and Work of Richard Yates”. I have nothing in common with Richard
Yates, but I understood him as a person, you know? Then again, maybe that means
I have something in common with him. Which is some scary shit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I haven’t listened to the radio for a couple of years.
The last time was a road trip for work. I couldn’t tell country from hip-hop or
rock. I kind of stick to streaming what I want instead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m currently reading “The Big Sin” by Jack Webb of
Dragnet fame. Not bad. You can kind of tell that Jack wanted to break loose but
was constricted by the ethics of the 1950’s.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A few years back, I purchased the first three novels
of a popular thriller series. It’s been made into a couple of movies and recently
a series on Amazon Prime. Partway through the first book, the main character
said something that made no sense, and I threw the fucking thing across the
room. Maybe I’ll get off my high horse and try it again sometime.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I named my beautiful son after a fictional private
eye. If you think it’s “Philip” or “Marlowe”, I’ll have to come back in my next
life as a squirrel and run straight up your pants leg.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-9868960987120995412022-04-18T10:04:00.005-04:002022-04-18T10:06:57.229-04:00In or Out?<p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif;">A few
days of forced absence are sometimes required. Within some of us lies a deep
and ingrained sense of discipline. People brought up to work do not take time
off because they "deserve it". In this case, though, I took a couple
of days off and let my thoughts and ideas percolate. I wanted to sift through
my writing and see if I still felt the same—I'm a notorious perfectionist. </span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif;">I
wrote the story I set out to write in the style I wanted. I wrote the truth.
We'll see if this translates for agents. Patience and optimism are my wingmen
in this numbers game.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Understanding
my writing may fall into grey areas of acceptability is critical to my psyche—people
tend to play it safer than ever these days. But I told myself: If you're going
to do this, you have to be all in—no safe places.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif;">And so
here we are. All in.</span></span></p><p></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-30281865647597676172022-04-14T10:43:00.001-04:002022-04-14T10:43:13.488-04:00Getting Close<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I managed a lot of work this week. My manuscript has been thoroughly edited
(to my absolute best ability), its word count sitting at 102k. Word count is
important, but it should not dictate the story. And I'm very close to nailing
down my query—call it 90% complete. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I resist the urge to start sending out my agent package too quickly. When we
close in on the goal line, we all tend to get our assholes in a pucker.
However, one can only edit a document so many times—at some point, you have to
fish or cut that fucker loose.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I’ve worked hard. I'm confident in my work. I'm ready to do some fishing for a change.</span></span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-76434054788509378662022-04-11T14:14:00.001-04:002022-04-11T14:16:28.828-04:00<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I won't bullshit anyone; today has been rough. I don't like getting into why- I'm not interested in pity parties. Sometimes, or many times, shit comes at you from all angles, all at once. You either deal with the circumstances or puss out. You'll always feel better if you deal.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I've managed another ten pages of editing so far today. Not too impressive but this is deep editing, down to the marrow. It's remarkable the fuck-ups you can find when you focus beyond your own perceived brilliance.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-46231342789170070842022-04-08T18:33:00.002-04:002022-04-08T18:35:32.445-04:00<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Still cutting. I've whittled it down to 102,600 words. Pretty sure I can knock off another 1k plus. I worried taking so much out would dilute the story. The worry is false. I find it easier to read and follow with the bullshit out of the way. But it's a process- long and painstaking.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I enjoy it to the point of obsession.</span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-5301063138252018692022-03-31T09:57:00.004-04:002022-03-31T10:00:31.630-04:00Knowing Where You're From<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It's the time of year where the sun hits at a certain angle at certain times of the day and brings back memories. Almost as if you can go back to a place and time, right there in your head, and it's an absolutely pure feeling. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">On days like this I'm reminded of why I like writing crime fiction, especially here in St. Pete. A good majority of crime novels based in Florida always seem to revolve around the boat set: fishing, beach bars, "Florida Man" type things. I like to view things from the other side of the coin, from the downtrodden point of view. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Maybe it's because I grew up in a place where most people didn't have much. Life can be hard in rural America. I like people who don't have much but always push forward. People who get themselves deep in shit and have to work out their situation. Those are the folks I write about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When people read my work, I want them to feel what I feel while I'm writing- the grasping at straws, anxiety, and dark humor. Of hope and despair. I want to push them through a jungle of deceit and pain. I want them to know there are people out there on the fringes who are just like us save a mistake here or there. A mistake that changed the course of their life. And that any of our lives can be altered, whether intended or not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Back to work.</span></p><p><br /></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-22420437870820010232022-03-30T12:56:00.004-04:002022-03-30T13:27:16.622-04:00The Cut<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It's a beautiful day here in Florida and I'm working lowering on the word count for my crime novel. My original draft came in at around 115,000 words. My second draft came in at around 108,500 and I was very confident with the end product. But feedback from agents suggests more work is needed and the challenge is welcome. I'm currently at around 103,700 words with no plot or character cuts.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">On a side note, I'm also re-working my query. Or I may just burn it, bury it in the backyard with the other bodies and start over. Either way, I'll make it work.</span></p>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-54399263180839240532022-03-16T10:42:00.000-04:002022-03-16T10:42:38.623-04:00Keep WorkingYears have passed by. I never stopped writing, just did things different for a time. I've come full circle. Time to swap that photo at the right for an older, better version.<div><br /></div><div>My novel is making the rounds to agents. It's a hell of a process but I've embraced it- I'm too stubborn to do otherwise and I like the challenge feedback brings. In the meantime, I grind. I work. I believe in the words I put down.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I haven't done is submit a new short story in a long time. Years. And I've got quite a few stories on tap. I'm currently looking for new outlets for my crime fiction (3-5k word range) and suggestions are welcome. </div>Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-7434478938092173722013-06-04T10:34:00.000-04:002013-06-04T10:40:46.261-04:00No Witty Titles Needed<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgSlG20apY2gmYZf237ZHMINe_hclWMoFXqk4oA762K0RZWNVTZfllIS8wXgd2MjmyQXHNOMAMIOojMoIKYOMEj2ybjmFMshNlv0ZPxi3RFeWKjiZD1XDoHF9-MsmE_eFsjEFwkPdlzox/s1600/!cid_1021B0E923C34FD29250AA886278F156@GaryWacker.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgSlG20apY2gmYZf237ZHMINe_hclWMoFXqk4oA762K0RZWNVTZfllIS8wXgd2MjmyQXHNOMAMIOojMoIKYOMEj2ybjmFMshNlv0ZPxi3RFeWKjiZD1XDoHF9-MsmE_eFsjEFwkPdlzox/s320/!cid_1021B0E923C34FD29250AA886278F156@GaryWacker.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
The dire straits of our individual yet coherent situations. The relation is universal.<br />
<br />
Stay chill.Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-63534321449755645082013-02-23T11:09:00.001-05:002022-03-16T11:07:56.634-04:00DIRGE—68 at Shotgun Honey<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fg5CWh8hmJYK6zNCHQZrZWJK_4-p6z4jZVWEoz57thXXWXhqCfWbIGHeX2zGtTOh_-DshBjCInFqF3mtSN_oH8rBOULfjpSOAsfCIR_Q300e3OTR7L-UifGZrEmj_d-MY0cEHEBFqJB9/s1600/sh_honey_logo.png"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fg5CWh8hmJYK6zNCHQZrZWJK_4-p6z4jZVWEoz57thXXWXhqCfWbIGHeX2zGtTOh_-DshBjCInFqF3mtSN_oH8rBOULfjpSOAsfCIR_Q300e3OTR7L-UifGZrEmj_d-MY0cEHEBFqJB9/s320/sh_honey_logo.png" /></a><br />
<br />
Got a new story, <a href="https://www.shotgunhoney.com/fiction/dirge-68-by-mike-wilkerson/">DIRGE—68 over at Shotgun Honey</a>. If you get a chance to check it out, I'd consider it mucho appreciado.<br />
<br />
The 700 word format was a challenge. A good challenge. The takeaway: The Shotgun crew are tops.<br />
<br />
Stay chill.Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-42261141307290813392012-12-14T14:45:00.000-05:002012-12-14T14:45:19.485-05:00EVERYONE LEAVES IN THE END<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUq5KpFHKo5dMAqoIiOkS5TcntbOF673ykEnwCTS-dRk6qtpVxYMQQQYbmiY_QfXw2BZ8Fvnyk38m_D2RoxN0_YrXATjZ5w8i0AtS4Mao8eoDeMXhICRnuED-2zdy6LJORHRo09eEgAEE/s1600/DSCN0128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUq5KpFHKo5dMAqoIiOkS5TcntbOF673ykEnwCTS-dRk6qtpVxYMQQQYbmiY_QfXw2BZ8Fvnyk38m_D2RoxN0_YrXATjZ5w8i0AtS4Mao8eoDeMXhICRnuED-2zdy6LJORHRo09eEgAEE/s320/DSCN0128.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Put the cat down today. Old gal was with us for 13 years. Got her when we had nothing.<br />
<br />
We were living in an old trailer home in a cow pasture near Antonino, KS. An old farmer stopped by, had this little ball of black fur. He asked if we wanted it because if we didn't he was going to take it to the pond and drown it. Too many feral cats can cause a lot of problems and he had too many the way it was.<br />
<br />
We took her in. We took her from KS to FL, screaming all the way.<br />
<br />
She was anti-social. She made her own way. She ran the roost. I often felt my wife and I were her puppets—she just had that kind of personality.<br />
<br />
But over the last few months she quit eating. We tried different foods, which only worked for awhile. This past week she gave up completely. <br />
<br />
Last night Kitty vomited thin black blood. The jig was up. <br />
<br />
The old doc gave it too me straight: kidneys are shot. She's shot. I knew this. I cannot and will not let an animal suffer.<br />
<br />
The doc put her down—two seconds and she was Gone City.<br />
<br />
Kitty—she was a good cat.<br />
<br />
I buried her between two crepe myrtles in our back yard.<br />
<br />
<strike></strike> Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-89831475080514751082012-09-02T16:22:00.000-04:002012-09-02T16:22:51.838-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjhPw6ehS2DPxFx14E_-8gqcW37yvA7kHRU6badPDpaeP7lfv32rnrgRidGIp7aHD0uVpg2XkphgTMzuYaRz4-IZprjvIFBxfXsnUfkGRB4bBXgxPzTpSxvyRHdk6eQgAIVBjpRBRq53S/s1600/dsc_0023_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjhPw6ehS2DPxFx14E_-8gqcW37yvA7kHRU6badPDpaeP7lfv32rnrgRidGIp7aHD0uVpg2XkphgTMzuYaRz4-IZprjvIFBxfXsnUfkGRB4bBXgxPzTpSxvyRHdk6eQgAIVBjpRBRq53S/s320/dsc_0023_0.jpg" /></a></div><br />
See that cat up there. Cat says buy the new edition of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/THUGLIT-Issue-One-ebook/dp/B0094PAYT4/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1346616581&sr=1-5&keywords=thuglit">THUGLIT</a>. Cat says his pops wrote a screamin' story for THUGLIT. Cat says if you don't buy, he'll show up at your house with knuckle dusters and a bad attitude.<br />
<br />
It's under a buck. It's the most hardboiled short collection out there. It has my story, A Clean White Sun.<br />
<br />
Buy it.<br />
<br />
Dig it.<br />
<br />
Stay chill.Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-70226069970829737102012-08-22T11:22:00.000-04:002012-08-22T11:29:06.625-04:00The Re-Boot. Thuglit- September 1st, 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT2AMjql2Y9wCXC7ISRN6E_FUfaP0H0V5f-ImOAc4pLWRDC1CUYCk9PZhvQw5MFZQqA8zXKUvWBJPHPkCLFnHJkIN9NNPYkt5aaV6UcuQhy6W4hr-pfZBYyDYAOI8GYBcajpQJiYzr_45/s1600/twit_copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT2AMjql2Y9wCXC7ISRN6E_FUfaP0H0V5f-ImOAc4pLWRDC1CUYCk9PZhvQw5MFZQqA8zXKUvWBJPHPkCLFnHJkIN9NNPYkt5aaV6UcuQhy6W4hr-pfZBYyDYAOI8GYBcajpQJiYzr_45/s320/twit_copy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://thuglit.com/">Thuglit's</a> back and September 1st is the date to mark. Big Daddy's really opening things up here- <a href="http://thuglit.com/">Thuglit</a> as a paying market. That's cash money, the dough-rae-me. Call it good for everybody submitting stories in the short crime fiction genre.<br />
<br />
Cool factor: I'm lucky enough to be a part of the shindig.<br />
<br />
Stay chill<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-914201273665685983.post-17632955834782808212012-08-11T16:15:00.000-04:002012-08-11T16:15:11.298-04:00The Season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jZvSUQtk8QtRbSlnC-7FUWBWtdqh9FPcI0H3HAcwcYoDi64tPFpdDNbQ6blzjUVRzvnJSdxtlRdx3rHWRsXdOAZ4quAqVbD3UOuX7jpNcnf5lX1IM9BG0G4EAERHeP1Egy8EokwisLWg/s1600/Packers+Logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="210" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jZvSUQtk8QtRbSlnC-7FUWBWtdqh9FPcI0H3HAcwcYoDi64tPFpdDNbQ6blzjUVRzvnJSdxtlRdx3rHWRsXdOAZ4quAqVbD3UOuX7jpNcnf5lX1IM9BG0G4EAERHeP1Egy8EokwisLWg/s320/Packers+Logo.gif" /></a></div><br />
Writing and just feeling so damn good about it, watching brown Anole lizards crawling on anything and everything outside my window and just plain happy that football season is here—Go Pack!<br />
<br />
Stay chill.<br />
<br />Mike Wilkersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00771502395254223219noreply@blogger.com3