Pushing Words: Or How I Learned to Stop Procrastinating and Start to Love the Craft Again

fall-treeNovember is National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo for short) and this year I was determined to actually put my hat into the ring and write my first novel.

To be sure, the fiction end of the writing I have done so far, mostly unpaid for the last decade or so, has sharpened my skills and allowed me to meet some wonderful people (like the nice young woman who offered to do a cover for my book as a thank you contributions to her website project) and the like, but I never considered myself a real writer and sometimes I still do not at times.

BayArt was kind enough to give me a platform to reach out with my one fiction piece that fit the inspirational tones of BayArt itself, which you can read here.

As far as any other fiction was concerned there were story ideas in my head and some rather good ones in that crop I may add but the negative voices in my head would immediately chime in:

“Who do you think you are, trying to write a book, it will never sell, it is too much work and you really think you’re an actual writer? Like a writer-writer? Yeah OK buddy, good luck with that one.” 

During the last three to four years, I have been on a journey and a huge part of that journey is centered around debriding my mind of the nasty thoughts that have held me back for decades from showing my true potential.

It took me losing just about everything to come out of denial and then almost losing everything I have now just to get myself to this point, but if I have the courage of my own convictions then pain is only a doorway to enlightenment.

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If You Could Be Straight, Would You?

It’s a loaded question. My first instinct, my first voice would scream “no! Be proud, be happy, be unapologetic!”. Because I’m Queertastic, right? My name is literally a statement of how gay I am. So, so, gay. Actually, more so bisexual, but you guys get it. The truth is, as much as I hate to … Read more

Of Roots and Fractals (An Inspirational Short Fiction)

First of all, before we begin let me point you to my first post on BayArt, which is the first step in a very long journey for me personally.

Secondly, if you like this post you can find more of my musings here

This is a short story I wrote from a writing prompt about the effects of turning your back on the gifts the universe provides for you, as well as a tale of courage and redemption. 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed sharing it with you here. 


Bob admittedly felt strange as he awoke on that Sunday morning, staring at the blue sky from his bed in his tiny one bedroom apartment, the bright sunlight forcing his eyes and his mind under the covers to try and regroup.

It felt like he got no rest at all, even though he had gotten into the habit of sleeping as much as possible, because it was better to be blissfully asleep rather than think about how lonely and isolated he was every single day of his life.

His eyes burned and his body ached as if he had been on a bender and then proceeded to start a fight in which the odds must have plainly been against him. Bob had vague recollections of a strange dream, of hands, reaching out and a voice that kept telling him he had one last chance.

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