Reading, reviewing, and the pursuit of writing

I’ve been writing for a couple of years. It is, to be fair, one of the more unusual pursuits. If one thing sums up what it’s been like, it’s five minutes I spent in a shop earlier this year.

It was a Tuesday morning, and I was explaining to the owner (I’m gonna call them individual ZB681*) why he should listen to a new story. He nodded as I bullshitted on about space rockets and wormholes, and as he did a customer walked in. I turned around to tell the customer that they should also give the story a go, and as I did I spotted individual ZB681’s reflection in the mirrored back of a display. He was making the forehead tap/ international signal for:
‘this fella’s not the full shilling, just humour him.’

*I’ve chosen not to disclose the names of Stephen Mullane or Ronan McNamara so as to protect the guilty.

And that’s pretty much writing.

Except when ya see or hear a review.

When author Brendan Gavin drew out the message that was wrapped up in the ball of cod science that is ‘Hyb it meant that on some level the story worked -which is all any writer can ask for.

His review is up on the indy corner of Fabulous New Catalog of Amazing Things; am linking it here as it’s something I’m proud of and I see it as evidence that writing isn’t a waste of time;)

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