I spent almost forty years trying to find a label for myself. Am I writer or a programmer? A father or a son? Sooner or later, and occasionally repeatedly, I realized that while there are a lot of labels for myself, there isn't only a single one that defines me. I am many thing and proud of almost every one.
…large repository of useless knowledge.
Foremost, I'm a voracious learner of everything I can get my hands on. Of course, this means I end up being a large repository of useless knowledge, but it also makes me a jack-of-trades. I'm also a husband of one and a father of two.
I am a writer of mostly fiction, including stories and novels. Some of them have actually resulted in a published novel while I have various stories scattered among some small presses and publications. When I do write, I like to know more than the story on the page, so I also easily lose myself in world-building and exploration.
I'm also a coder. I create compliance software by day and random programs by night. I also managed to pull out a few games here and there, both on pen-and-paper and on the computer. Somewhere down the line, I got interested in typography, geology, and open source software.
When Desòchu wakes up, his father is still missing and now he is fully responsible for his brother. Without anyone to comfort him or allow him to grieve, what could he do?
Despite having a night away from his duties, Desòchu can't get over his guilt about leaving his brother with his father. He decided to head back before something went wrong.
With some of the teenagers from another clan leaving in the morning, Desòchu hopes to get a few more hours to enjoy before resuming his duties with his brother. That meant waiting for his father to come back and hope that he wasn't too drunk.
This week I submitted chapters three and four of Raging Alone to the writing group. There were some good points made but one of the ones that the entire table brought up was the names. I figured that I could use the tool I just wrote to find out how bad it was.
When it comes to projects that I probably will never finish, Author Intrusion is probably right up there. Most of the time, it is because I keep restarting because I learned significant lessons. This last week was one of those cases.
On the thirthieth day of National Poetry Month, I present a poem about battle and fighting for a cause.
For the twenty-ninth day of National Poetry Month, I wrote about poem about my son's first breath.