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« on: August 28, 2006, 03:58:20 AM »
TL KINCAID here.
I am a writer. I don't write very well, but if most of the books I read are any indication, that doesn't really matter.
I completed the first draft of a novel called Red Day when I was 18 years old, but realized that no one with a sane bone in their body would ever publish it. It was completely morally abberant and probably would have had lynch mobs forming in my front lawn if it ever got any sort of notoriety. So I shelved it and began working on a new book.
I'm still wroking on my new book. It's called The Plague of Meaning. It is currently 77,000 words long and nowhere near finished. I suspect its final length will be a hurtle when it comes time for me to publish it, but I really don't particularly care. I know that I'm supposed to pander to what readers and publishers want, but I don't really care about that stuff. I write for me. If a company is stupid enough to publish me and readers are smart enough to read me, than that's their business. I'm only interested in the ego-boost of saying, "I wrote a novel!"
Anyway, that's me.