I Was A Middle Aged Writer

March 6, 2009

So, On That Time Issue…

Filed under: writing — danielrdavis @ 7:53 pm
Tags: ,


So, I think about restructuring my time and what ends up happening instead is that yet one more idea for a story pops into my head.  It always seems to happen this way.  That’s in part why I have some odd million (Maybe not that many) stories laying around the house and on zip disks here and there.  I love that I have so many stories in my head trying to get out, but could they just wait till I finish one of the older ones first?  I’m so practiced on writing beginnings that I have some of the greatest story beginnings around.  I have beginnings that can grab attention right off the bat, but unfortunately, that’s all I have.  Oh, I’ve got some short stories that I’ve finished at around 5-7k words and a couple novel beginnings coming in at around 15-20 pages, but no novels done and no place to send those short stories.

What’s popped into my head this time is straight fantasy.  It’s actually stemmed from seeing the multitude of urban fantasy hunter novels hitting the scene lately.  Don’t get me wrong, I love ’em.  I think they’re great and they work well, but most all of the hunter stories coming down the line lately are urban fantasy.  And fantasy is actually one of my favorite genres and it’s how I started writing in the first place.  So, why not a straight high fantasy hunter novel?

Now, I don’t know if it’s because Earth-centric urban fantasy is all the rage right now and straight fantasy is waning, but there’s just a lot of it out there all the sudden.  Maybe the straight fantasy novel will be harder to sell in today’s market.  I haven’t researched it.  What I do know is that I’m good enough to put some interesting twists into a fantasy novel to garner interest in it…as long as I can actually finish the thing.  Now I’ve got three projects I have to budget time for.  Hopefully no more ideas hit me for a little while.  Well…no, I can’t say that.  The day that I no longer have ideas is the day I just give up and become some crotchety old coot hollering on his porch about the good ol’ days.



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