Looks like in a month’s time, we’ll be rolling out new content on a variety of venues, but predominantly here, as I have far more influence over the website than such trivial rubbish as deviantart and the like. A whole suite of science-fiction works have been completed, including a second edition of my initial publication The Sagas of the Iron Hearts: Fragments, a four-month running serial entitled The Recovered Logs of Midshipman Gregory Samuels to occur within the same universe, and a second somewhat meatier book to be released at the completion of the serial whose title is here announced Goliath Thunder: Sacrifice. I’ll be sure to give such notification when the time is right that no-one will go oblivious, and the eyes of all will bleed with infernal joy.
After that, be prepared for another serial, this time to occur in a fantasy universe of my own creation of approximately 5 months in length–mind you, this includes releasing chapters twice weekly, as I should have mentioned earlier. With this there will be a book, a book whose title I haven’t yet determined. And from there more content and more, until this is no more Robert Madsen but peace.
Thoughts for the day:
Most people are nerds, whether they know it or not. The same creative spark and love of bizarre dialogue that leads one to love the more bizarre of Japanese Video Game Developers also drives those consumed to put on silly clothes and make-up to re-enact Saturday-Night Fever. Incidentally, I’m not much for either of those things. In any case, a willingness to tolerate a certain amount of guffawing criticism combined with a modicum of creativity is the necessary admixture to invent in anyone a nerd.
I constantly have to prune sock-puppets from Russia. I pray I haven’t snipped anyone genuine.
While I suffer and periodically enjoy the fruits of writing, it is to my better half to suffer for months in leagues and leagues of edits–long before they can ever grace the eyes of readers. I don’t think enough writers have a balanced perspective of what writing is all about. Even after the production of a rough draft, which is a performance to itself, there may be ten orders of edits thereafter, perhaps more, before the work is shining peerless. Not enough writers do significant amounts of their own editing, and as a consequence they have this head-in-the-clouds tendency that befuddles them in their harsh realities of their trade.