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Ghost, Christmas Skull, Back to Life, The Rules of Tempation, Embrace, The Open Vein Xmas Issue, Short Story, Book Picks, Puppeteer, Pride, Skull On Book, Nightfall: A Novel, Edward Ballister
 
 No person I have ever known has said that life would be easy, let alone a life in which one may aspire to follow his or her dreams. Nowadays, to have a dream (and for one to truly follow that dream), one must sacrifice many things to make it reality. He or she must embrace his or her passion and dedicate his or her schedule to revolve around hopeful tasks that may lead to an anticipated (yet uncertain) success.

My dream has always been to write. Rather, I have always writhed in the euphoria of writing descriptive passage that could move a person--whether it was to scare the hell out of them, make them cry, or make them horny. It only matters to the creator. The fact that one can move another with mere words typed on a page is more difficult than you can imagine. When was the last time you gave a greeting card to the one you loved? How did you feel when you observed the tears forming in their eyes from what you had written within the card?

I love creating characters that are both sensual and evil. I enjoy setting the scene for the ultimate battle of love versus loss, good versus bad, and friendliness versus betrayal. I have a passion for creativity. Perhaps it was a gift or perhaps it was a curse. Nonetheless, deep within myself, I have discovered that writing is my calling. And this I truly know and cannot deny.
 
Going back to the time in my late teenage years, I recall how easy I thought it would be to write and sell a novel. The decade was the late Eighties/early Nineties and (since I was a big fan of both horror and pop-culture) the modern successful writers I knew consisted of Stephen King, Clive Barker, Anne Rice, Dean R. Koontz, Brett Easton Ellis and Armistead Maupin. I remember reading various articles, candid interviews with these writers that weaved an intriguing rags-to-riches story of how they had succeeded with books that made the New York Times bestseller list. My heart raced at every printed word of their interview. Deep within, I thought I could write a novel and get an agent and be on the bestseller list. Of course, this had been the reality of others who had attained their dream. This had become my hope.
 
Times change.
 
The writers I mentioned were initially published in the mid-to-late Seventies/early Eighties. Their novels were discovered in a time when the writing of a full-length novel was the brunt of the writer’s work. Afterward, they could send a book proposal to an agent and, if they liked it, they could attain a publishing house for such a story. Novelists were rare...at least, novelists who actually completed a novel and submitted it for possible publication. In that time, three decades ago, it wasn’t uncommon for an aspiring writer to pen a novel and find it on the New York Times bestseller list a year later. It was simply a matter of writing a novel and letting the agent find a publisher for the work. From there, the publisher did most of the marketing of the book.
 
Nowadays, writers are everywhere you look. The technology of the Internet has allowed aspiring writers to try raising themselves to the highest ranks of bestselling authors. This is both a positive and a negative for aspiring writers. On one hand, writers have numerous places they can post their work—from e-zines to blogs. Many writers do so at no payment to the writer just to get their name noticed. After all, with the popularity of small presses and vanity presses, it has become a question of marketability.
 
Thus, I have reached the point of this entry—the life of a writer.
 
I had recently read a blog post by a dear friend of mine that turned me off. The blog was a mere likes and dislikes of various everyday and personal manias. However, something struck home. Something with which I had always been a part of. It came down to the fact that I didn’t have the time because I was busy with my own works and writings. As a matter of fact, the piece of the blog that I felt was directed toward me implied that I was nothing less than selfish in terms of my writing. To this, I offer this entry and these words...
 
The life of a writer is not easy.
 
First and foremost, writing is no longer about creating a story and pushing it to agents for that potential sale. Writing has become very competitive, as I have stated above.
 
To find a reputable agent for your writing is a task in itself. What, with many would-be agents attempting to charge reading fees when, in all reality, a professional agent wouldn’t attempt such. After all, an agent makes a royalty off the writer’s work. If an agent finds a writer’s work to be salable, then they would not charge just to read it.
 
New flash...once a writer’s work is published, the publisher does not promote the book as much as one thinks! In fact, the writer will find himself or herself promoting the forthcoming novel more than the efforts of the publisher!
 
Enter the Internet.
 
Author websites, bulletins on MySpace, journal blogs, short stories published in e-zines (with no pay)—all to promote that upcoming book. Add banner exchanges and blurbs for other authors (reviews)—every little piece is an attempt to put your name and forthcoming novel in printed text for that next stranger to see. It’s all in anticipation that they will purchase your upcoming novel.
 
Let’s take it a step further...
 
They don’t call writers and actors “struggling artists” without reason. Sure, some don’t have a bed to piss in. However, I prefer a more fitting life. I prefer to have the things I want and go after the things I do not have. And for those writers that have to live, I’m sure they do so similarly to me:
 
I work a job and write.
 
Sure, I often spend EIGHTEEN hours a day in work mode and SIX hours in sleep mode. I work, I write, I promote, I work my website, I blog to keep readers of my stories up-to-date, I maintain a social life, and I do so knowing that, one day, my words will make my living. I do this anticipating that my words will eventually be enough to give me shelter, food, and the amenities I crave. I may never be a bestselling author. What I do know is that, in my heart, I am doing all that I can to achieve my dream...my goal. This is more than I can say for those who say and don’t produce. After all, we all know that a goal cannot achieve itself. It takes the discipline for one to make it happen. It will not do it on its own.
 
To the one who thought I was “too busy,” step into my world. Can you take it on? Do you want to take it on?
 
I may be busy, but I ALWAYS live up to my word.
 
The life of a writer is extremely busy. Sometimes, it’s quite chaotic. But in the end, knowing that you moved another person is all that really matters. Surely, it is the hope of any writer.