I need some help. Yours.
Because I keep finding myself saying “I hate everything” or “I’m sooooo unhappy right now,” as I sit at my computer or walk the empty hall of my apartment.
Why? I’m not writing anymore.
Yeah, sure, copywriting is writing. So are writing proposals, and this blog, and emails, and updates, and Tweets and FB posts. But this kind of writing merely needs to be done.
None of it is the kind of writing I want to do.
The kind that made me want to write in the first place, that I’m increasingly desperate to write: fiction. Telling tales of made up people living in alternate worlds, or sometimes alternate lives in our world. I want—no need—to be a guide in the Interzone—excursions to The Way Thing Might Have Been or Could Yet Be.
So an effort to right a foundering ship I’m asking for help.
On a recent trip to Chicago, I was interviewed by Moresby Press writer Greg Beaubien. He asked several great questions, which lead to the following conversation: The Cost of Ambition and Deceiving Ourselves: Author W. Lance Hunt Discusses His Novel A Perfect Blindness As part of the never-ending campaign to help readers who would enjoy reading A Perfect Blindness find […]
It will be rebroadcast later this week, and then available as a podcast right here on Wlancehunt.com and aperfectblindness.com. Listen, enjoy and let me know what thoughts it provokes.