This is the 2nd time someone at The Passive Voice has called me a “bad-boy” writer.
I’m not sure precisely the connotation — I’m hoping its more, When you’re a Jet you’re a Jet all the way rather than ooh somebody needs a spanking. Maybe it’s a combination. Maybe I’m James Dean in a soggy diaper? Danny Zuko who can’t share his toys with the other children? Maybe I’m Judd Nelson in the Breakfast Club, except also, I shoved a PB&J in Mommy’s purse.
Getting quoted at TPV is usually a little bumpy — understandably, as my views don’t always line up with the views of the commenters there. I think a lot of indie authors still remember me for my “self-publishing shit volcano” post (though sometimes I wonder if they actually read the post because I like to think that the post contained a very even-handed and honest look at the effects of a perceived lack of quality in that space). But this time around, getting quoted was — at least, so far — relatively painless.
But, then I saw some comments by mega-uber-indie-author Hugh Howey:
I hope so. He’s too nice a guy to go down in history as the person peeing in everyone’s art and telling them it sucks.
I don’t think that’s what he meant, but it’s what he was famous for for a while there.
… and …
He’s a really bright guy and a great writer. If he dropped the weird bad-boy schtick and just wrote his thoughts, he’d be one of the more important thinkers in publishing. I don’t think he knows how to back off the schtick, though. Which makes you wonder: Is he going to talk like that in another 20 years, when he’s into his 60s?
Working really hard to be hip is like getting a lot of tattoos. It’s hard to age gracefully.
(Which is to say, I feel I finally understand the comment, ‘damning with faint praise.’)
Obviously, I can’t control how people perceive me. Or this blog, or my books.
What I can control is what I put out into the world.
And so I thought, I’m going to take a moment to do what blogs were really meant to do…
Which is to talk about me, me, ME.
*rolls around in own stink for a few moments while you stare, awkwardly*
*stands up, dusts self off, looks shameful like a dog that just ate its own mess*
I’ve seen it suggested in some places that what I do here — the way I write, the attitude I put out, the overall frothing writer honey badger hobo vibe — is somehow orchestrated. That despite the ire I reserve for the topic of author ‘branding,’ this is actually my brand and it’s a very conscious one and all of this is (depending on who you listen to) either well-constructed or clumsily forced. It’s either a very nice mansion or a square-peg violently hammered into a circle-hole by me, an angry man-toddler venting venom and vulgarity.
I want to make one thing abundantly clear:
This isn’t artifice.
This isn’t a mechanism.
This isn’t my brand.
It isn’t, as Hugh suggests, my schtick.
This? Is me.
The way I write on this blog is the way I think. I have this space for me first, for you second. The dopey fuckery and wanton dipshittery that I ladle onto these blog pages are here because I like them that way. I like wonky metaphors. I love creative profanity. I really enjoy writing in a way that is both (hopefully) thoughtful and completely batshit. I write this way because I think this way. I don’t really act this way in public, of course, because it’s a very good way to get Tasered. And when people meet me for the first time (as I’ve noted in the past), I don’t scream “YO MOTHERFUCKER” before spitting in their gaping, gasping mouth. I’m fairly polite in public. An introvert playing at extroversion — or, at the least, an introvert who finds himself extroverting once he’s comfortable with people.
And at this blog, I’m very, very comfortable.
This is me kicking off my shoes and kicking up my feet. Letting the beard grow all mangy and wild, like a snarling carpet of moss or an old, hunger-mad coyote. This is me, comfortable. I’m comfortable with you and, presumably, most of you are comfortable with me since a not unreasonable number of you show up here daily. (And thank you for that. Seriously.)
I write the way I think.
Sometimes I turn the volume up. Sometimes I turn the volume down — and, in my books, I turn it down because there the voice is different. (Despite all this not being artifice, I do remain in control of all the knobs and levers that govern my voice.) But this is my playspace. This blog is for me, first and foremost, and hopefully there are enough folks who gain some kind of intellectual, creative or profane sustenance from these pages to make the juice worth the squeeze.
I’m not trying to be “hip.”
(Is that really a word people use anymore? “Hip?”)
(I still like “rad,” honestly.)
Sure, sometimes I can come across as harsh — a little too much gravel in your wine, a few too many bird bones braided into my silky, luxuriant face-pelt. It is a fair critique to say, “Well, if you didn’t call that post ‘shit volcano,’ maybe you wouldn’t have upset people, and with a nicer title, maybe those people would’ve read the post.” Yeah, maybe. But I did it, and I’d do it again. Because ‘shit volcano’ is funny. Because I liked titling it that way. You might have already gotten this far in the post and wish I wouldn’t do these weird parenthetical asides, or the fake-actions-sandwiched-betwixt-asterisks, or the eyebrow-raising metaphors. Sure, I get that. But I’m going to do them anyway. And, when I’m harsh, it’s because that’s how I feel and because I’m trying to portray the path ahead with all the bumps and thorns that lurk ahead. (Though, for the record, I don’t see myself as “peeing in everyone’s art and telling them that it sucks.” I like to think of this blog as a very supportive space of writers of all stripes. Your creativity and creation is vital, and nobody should tell you otherwise. That said, once you start to charge money for something, ennnnh, you’ve gone from creativity to commerce — and there, the attitude changes a little bit. All that is, of course, between you and your personal deities. But all told, I don’t think, we can all do better is a particularly poisonous message, unless of course, you find comfort in cromulence.)
My mission at this blog is as follows:
a) to enlighten and inform, and when that fails:
b) to make you laugh, and when that fails:
c) dazzle and bewilder with inventive profanity.
The fail state of that last one is, you and me maybe just don’t like the same things.
And that’s okay.
Hell, that’s awesome.
What kind of a goofy world would it be if we all liked the same things? Or we all agreed all the time. It’s important to have different voices and different ideas. Sid and Marty Krofft, could you imagine if I was the dominant voice in writing and publishing? What an ugly pony that would be.
Just the same, this place is my voice.
These are my ideas.
Not a brand, or a schtick, or a lie, or me trying to be hip, or be a “bad boy.”
If you’re going to hang around here, this is what you get. (Sorry, Hugh.)
You’re gonna get the NSFW/NSFL language.
You’ll get all my kooky ranty-pants ideas.
You’ll probably see a lot of CAPSLOCK and italics.
Absurdity will be rampant.
I am likely to poke more fun at me than I do at you.
I will squeeze things in parentheses and between asterisks.
Sometimes things will be in lists.
I am likely to reference any of the following: hobos, unicorns, various woodland creatures, dildos, forbidden sex acts, beards, fluids, volcanoes, toddlers, Transformers, and of course: lots of blathering bloggerel about writing, storytelling, publishing, language, and all the mortar that holds those particular bricks together.
This is it.
This is me.
I hope you like it.
If you don’t, that’s okay.
But this is still gonna be it, and this is still gonna be me.
And by the way I think tattoos are cool, even on 60-year-olds.
Now, if you’ll excuse me — BAD BOY AUTHOR COMING THROUGH.
*writes a novel while riding loud motorcycle*
*flicks lit cigarette into a trash-can full of awful books*
*slams your head in a dictionary*
*throws beer cans at your head as you go into a library*
*autographs books in bat blood*
*flushes your manuscript down the toilet*
*tattoos entire text of Finnegan’s Wake on back*
*poops on your blog*
*flies away on a jetpack made of unicorn bones*
224 responses to “Who I Am (And Why I Write This Blog)”
… I love you, man. *fondles your bone beard* <– NOT AN INNUENDO.
“THE BONE BEARD” is the name of my next book.
AND I LOVE YOU, GN. WHOEVER YOU ARE.
I want your beard Chuck! I believe it may grant me with your wisdom and knack for intellectual profanity.
You keep on being you, Chuck. You’re my favorite pirate.
Several months ago, you said that wasn’t the part where we hugged you. Is this the part where we hug you?
BRING IT IN
*Initiates secondary beard-on-beard hug*
*The beards follicles fuse together. *
*You are now stuck this way. *
This is your life now. The beards have demanded it.
A life as Chuck Wendig’s beard sounds like a cool gig; question is which facet of his personality would I be normalising?
*nods forgivingly at the ’embrace’ pun*
I love you for who you are. Don’t change. The world would suffer without your voice, Chuck Wendig. You make me laugh. I love your blog. If people can’t see past your humor to your wisdom, then, well, that’s their loss.
If you don’t talk like this when you turn 60 I’ll be seriously pissed.
I am looking forward to being the old dude with a long scraggly beard (and super-bald by then because seriously, that is a tide I cannot turn) cursing at passersby.
It is my greatest ambition.
What I like about you and yours, you guys are writers. Apologies but I don’t get that vibe off most of the TPV group. So whether you’re real or fake you write and your commenters write and put stuff out there, that’s good enough for me.
Yes, you are rude. Yes, you are abrasive. Yes, I have a particular WTF face that’s reserved for you.
But (or butt, if you prefer) you also tell it like it is. There’s no head-patting, no pandering to wannabe snowflakes. You are bluntly frank, and I for one need that.
I need someone cutting through the bullshit namby-pamby stuff spouted by some, to sit me down and say “this is how it is”, then pick me up and kick my arse.
I appreciate the arse-kicking more than you know.
Thanks! I also like to think that any abrasions I cause are like dermabrasion — a clearing away of dead skin cells so that healthy tissue can grow. Er, okay, maybe not.
Maybe HH is jealous because he secretly wants to let his inner Wendig out, but he’s trapped himself in the role of Mr. Nice Nicely. What would his followers think if he went Wendig for a day?
It IS Halloween soon… Maybe then he can?
I’d love to go as the Wendigo. Just need a beard and a unicorn jetpack.
None of this needed saying, but I am so glad you said it.
*wipes tears from eyes*
*Starts Sunday off right*
*Wipes mind clean before taking the kids to church*
I want to be you, only without the beard. And I want that unicorn jetpack.
It’s your voice, I love it, don’t ever change. I have quoted you in my blog more than once. I believe in telling it like it is. Thanks, seriously.
I can’t believe some people say you are trying to be hip or pull off a “bad boy” persona. Goddamn motherfuckers probably don’t even art at all. *flips bird* *saunters away*
I’ll tell ya’ what you already know – i’m not the biggest fan of the polemic person you sometimes are.
I do find it head-shakingly shocking that anyone who writes and reads your blog would arrive at the conclusion it’s anything but your thinking voice coming out. Holy crap – I can’t even imagine the effort it would take to sustain your blog as an artifice. Yeesh.
So – on the front that really matters in writing – creativity, originality, a unique voice – I respect you plenty. Not that you give two shits about me respecting you! HA 🙂 But – still – whether I/yiou like you/me or not that comment from Hugh (or Howie or whatever his name was) was bullshit.
Walt Rosenfeld / PDBill
Keep rocking it, Chuck. I love your voice because it is unique.
BTW, I was thinking that perhaps H would have had problems with James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, William Burroughs, Anais Nin, and Henry Miller as being too hip for their own britches back in the day.
Love the creative profanity, the occasional unicorn, and the writerly advice. Yay for staying true to you!
I guess if you are going to use Sid and Marty Krofft as a deity-invoking exclamation, it makes sense that you misspelled their last name, similar to the way I would write, “G-d willing, somebody will find this comment clever.”
I always get that wrong. TWO Fs? TWO Ts?
Man, I love your blog. I barely live between issues. At this point in my journey I’m drafting a new book, and I’ve stopped reading all other blogs. So you have my full attention. I ran across you about 6 months ago, Chuck, so I’ve a lot of catching up to do. That’s a pleasure I’ve promised myself for the future, a reward for hard work. Some of your writing wisdom I’ve printed and pasted on my wall, other posts that made me laugh out loud I printed and shared with my wife. (Although James Dean in a soggy diaper was maybe an image too far :)) JJ
I’ve never felt that “the person peeing in everyone’s art and telling them it sucks” vibe from you. I have felt it from others…many, in fact, in the traditional publishing arena, but not you. Now “bad boy”…it’s the beard, man. Chicks dig the scruffy look. All men with scruff are automatically bad boys. And there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. 😀
Keep being you!
I agree with Melinda on not feeling the “peeing in everyone’s art and telling them it sucks” quote. Wendig encourages authors, always. Yes, he did say anyone can publish crap: *grins and recalls the Baboon expedition on Amazon to prove a point.* And, as I recall, he then rapped knuckles and said, “Don’t do that.”
What the hey-ho? I for one found #volcanogate long overdue, as a reader and a writer. There is a lot of rubbish out there in self-publishing-world and it annoys the hell out of me when I download a book, which I may have *only* paid 99p for – but that’s not the point! – and my eyeballs start melting from the ink stink. As a reader, I am affronted on a cellular level and I want to shake the author and yell in their face that it isn’t a *race* to get your shit (which is shit, by the way) out there. Take some time and do some basic editing at least, please? My eyeballs and my recalcitrant-DNA would thank you.
I find it ironic that the commentary about your unique voice, Chuck, is coming from authors – the whole point about writing is, err, finding your voice right? We’re all snowflakes, and if your snowflake happens to be drenched in sriracha with edges sharp from a thousand fucks then so what? And the whole “bad boy” thing. Well now. Referring to you constantly as a “boy” is a way of trying to infantilise your opinion and dilute your power – no-one has to take a kid seriously, right? So let’s move on and not have to deal with the toddler-tattle.
Which simply tells me that it’s more important than ever that you keep on keeping’ on, because when people start telling you you’re a “bad boy” and that you have to grow up sometime, it means that what you’re saying is hitting a major nerve.
MY SNOWFLAKE IS A NINJA STAR
I don’t know what that means, but thanks for making me think of it. And thanks for the kind words!
I hope that if we ever meet, you WILL greet me with YO MOTHERFUCKER, but then skip the spitting part. I’ve learned a great deal from you, which pretty much proves it’s not schtick. Once something goes to schtick, we stop learning from it.
It is tough to be authentic in a politically correct world. But for some of us there is no other way. Demosthenes would have been proud to find your blog!
It really amuses me when I see the equivalent to “he’s too mean” given as a pseudo-criticism of “I’m here to help you motherfuckers, so I’mma lay down some boom.” It’s a GOOD thing. It’s a voice that the not-horribly-oversensitive know is just funnin’ while being serious at the same time, and it’s a voice that should TEACH people who are oversensitive that it doesn’t have to hurt.
“Mean.” That’s the issue here. “Mean” is nodding and smiling and trying to go super easy on someone who really DOES want help but gets fluffed into obscurity by too many people who don’t let them know clearly what they NEED to work on. There is a vast chasm of difference between laying down the boom in a voice the listener knows is genuinely concerned for them, and being just plain nasty with no intent but to tear down (i.e., without the necessary follow-up of building UP).
One of the nicest people you’ll ever meet is Julie Butcher. Sweet, bend-over-backwards-to-help-you, generous NICE. She specializes in manuscript critiques…and she knows that the critique has to jump up and thump you on the nose just to get your attention because WE ALL LOVE OUR BABIES and are too close to see the faults. And this sweet, nice, wonderful person greets you with “I can tell you why your manuscript sucks.” http://jrbutcher.blogspot.com/2013/04/i-can-tell-you-why-your-manuscript.html
If you get quiveringly indignant over some gleeful profanity, I submit that you just may be too sensitive to handle a NECESSARILY hard commentary.
Seems so obvious this is you to me, and why would anyone follow you if they didn’t like it? You are a pleasure of messy laughter and outrage. Thank you.
You know whose gotten the same crap all his life? Tom Waits. Tom Freekin Waits. He’s kept being Tom Waits and the world is so much better for it. And the world is also vastly improved by having a wild Wendig tossing words about like mutated rabid bats. But you know that.
Keep on being you. This is one of my fav blogs (I also read TPG on occasion…also good stuff, but a whole different bent). By the way, this is still one of the best blogs ever written for us aspiring writers: http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/02/03/slushy-glut-slog-why-the-self-publishing-shit-volcano-is-a-problem/ Everytime I think I’m being lazy I read it again to remind myself that I don’t want to be part of the shit spew, so I need to work harder. Keep on telling it like it is…
I think people who don’t come from a gaming/roleplaying background don’t get the asterisk-text emote thing. I like it because it tells me one way in which you and I have common ground.
I love your blog and your voice. You’re real and that’s why I keep coming back. I’ll take the wonky metaphors, the creative profanity, the dipshittery, etc. You are awesome and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“An introvert playing at extroversion — or, at the least, an introvert who finds himself extroverting once he’s comfortable with people.”
The rad thing about a blog is you can Play Extrovert once and reach a lot of people without it draining you. The “owning your voice thing” took me a while, but I’m a lot happier for it. The moment you start bending your non-paid time to suit someone else is the moment you stop living.
(This also works for horrible bigots who haven’t felt the cleansing wave of enlightenment)
Friggin love this!
May I suggest employing a minion to follow you around with a boombox playing “Bad Boys”? Either by Inner Circle or Gloria Estefan – I’ll leave you to decide.
If you could peer through the mists of blog-space you’d also see here a number of British readers giggling everytime you mention being pantsless (because I refuse to believe I’m on my own in this regard).
Man, compared to Robin McKinley’s blog, you are merely a dabbler in parenthetical asides. Dinna fret. 🙂
No no no no! Having a unique voice is EVERYTHING. That’s what editors have always preached to me; that’s what’s been my saving grace as a writer despite slogging along in southern fiction and women’s fiction and being a very. slow. producer. Voice. As a publisher it’s the thing I and my partner look for constantly in submissions.
A writer with a distinct voice who needs editorial help is worth ten times more than a writer with perfect skills who sounds like everyone else. I come to this blog because you say very smart things in a very creative way. I’d probably still come if you said them in an ordinary way, but it wouldn’t be as much fun.
I’ve bought your writing books because I like your voice. You’re a successful author because of your perspective on the world AND THAT’S PART OF YOUR VOICE.
Fuck The Passive Voice. (that blog title says it all.) I’m not a fan of their site, and they know it.
Chuck, I own all of your writing books … every one of them is still on my shelf. There is a reason for that.
Write, wrong, indifferent (hell, you even say it’s all B.S. anyhow 🙂 ) you tell it like it is. Even if it means sending some Rhino – hedgehog at us etc…
You don’t apologize. I respect that.
As for your language, your thinking, and the “way” you are on this blog and in your writing books … well … it gets your points across better (to me).
Don’t lose it (and, you just said you won’t). But please don’t slam my head in a dictionary! I get headaches easily.
A note about “every one of them on my shelf” above. The digital ones are printed, spiral-bound and on my shelf.
When I’m writing, I sometimes open one or the other in a second window, to tab over and read when I feel stuck. The short bursts of profanity and enthusiasm are great pep-talks when putting words on the page feels Herculean.
I love your profanity-riddled posts, Chuck. They make me spew my coffee. It’s what I love about your blog. Don’t ever change.
Re: Hugh Howey, this part stuck out for me: “He’s too nice a guy to go down in history as the person peeing in everyone’s art and telling them it sucks.”
That quote right there says a lot more to me about the people who think it and who say it than it does about you. It says that they haven’t learned how to check their ego at the door; that the creation of art is something that they do more for themselves than for others (which, as you point out, is fine, as long as they aren’t asking anyone to actually pay them anything for it); that the expression “the play’s the thing” goes right over their heads; that, in the journey of the artist, they are still in their infancy, when they are unable to see past their having created something to the thing itself. They are unable to be objective. Art is still a self-centered thing for them.
That’s okay. They’ll grow up eventually, or not; either way, it’s not your problem, and it’s out of your hands. In the meantime, you keep doing what you’re doing.
You’re fucking awesome. Never once have I thought your voice here was a construct of artifice, beard clippings, bacon grease, unicorn shit, and ear wax molded into a bad boy golem spewing word vomit.
*Launches tacos to Wendig all the way from Cleveland with giant slingshot*
They’re jealous. You’re not playing by the rules, and yet … you’re doing just fine. They’ve colored inside the lines for so long they can’t figure out how to do anything else. So keep doing what you’re doing, because the rest of us find value in it. The best part? You make me laugh.
Final note: I’m relieved to see you find the idea of “author branding” as ridiculous as I do.
You are growing up Chuck. Don’t let them call you Charles.
Hugh’s just jealous. You’re awesome just the way you are:-)
Chuck you are sooper. Also dooper. Your voice inspires me and makes me belly-laugh and makes me hide my screen at work. What’s not to love here?
The thing you’ve taught me more than anything, here and in your books, is that it’s ok to be bold and break the rules in writing. I went balls-deep voice-y in my latest ms, did bonkers things with structure, word choices, funny colourful metaphors, and ya know what? It’s bloody working! 10 queries so far have led to 3 full requests, and I haven’t heard back from 6 of them. So thanks for that and please don’t ever change!
Wow, congrats. Glad to hear you’re kicking ten varieties of ass!
Don’t always agree with you but I mostly do and I think you’re a straight shooter. No pretense, good writing, open-minded, well-reasoned analysis of things bookish. I have a tendency toward an Indie bias and reading you often provides a corrective slap upside the head that shakes me back to a more balanced perspective.
Now I’m confused.
Not about what you just posted, man. You speak with a poetic intensity that I can only envy. I have four exhortations about writing pinned to my office wall. One by Ghandi, one by Mark Twain, one by Goethe, and you.
My confusion is how to respond without breaking a cardinal rule of mine with respect to social media. The rule is that I don’t comment on a blog that’s referencing another blog. Instead, I go to the original location and post there. Because to do otherwise just kinda moseys up to the line of being gossipy. For instance, if I really thought you were trying to hard to be hip, if I thought you were doing some sort of schtick… well… I’d tell ya. I wouldn’t tell other people in a separate forum, because that’s just too much like a group of kiddies in a schoolyard hanging with their clique talking and making fun of another kid over on the other side of the schoolyard. The one who’s trying to DO something. I don’t talk on one blog about another blog ‘cuz it’s… childish.
Yeah, yeah, I know it happens. I simply don’t do it.
From THIS post of yours, I went and read about a shit volcano, and frankly I agree with that post. I’ve already read the post about Tough Love Talk and found it passionate, encouraging and hopeful.
I think that what you put up on your blog is a true reflection of your personality. Not your entire personality—sheesh, you say you’re a game designer, but I can’t recall you talking about games here man. You say you’re a parent, but you don’t discuss your kid here. Like all of us snowflakes, you have many other facets of beauty that just can’t show through the written word.
But I believe… BELIEVE that here you are telling your truth, Chuck. You are speaking your truth with a clarity and passion that is just so damn admirable. Your command of the language, your fluidity of prose—I ain’t scared of no asterisks or parentheses—I BELIEVE that you are struggling against the backlit screen in front of you to reach through it an grab me by my mind and TELL ME WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU THINK IN THE BEST WAY YOU ARE ABLE.
And bro; you’re damn good at it.
I think you frighten lesser people. I think you are a character to those who don’t have as much. Gossipers are always gonna gossip, man. They’ll be doing that in their 60’s. It’s a life habit.
You’re a stand up guy and a damn good writer.
You’re unforgivably different. Your style is what makes me buy your books BEFORE anyone else’s. You put yourself–YOU–not a Wendig you’ve carefully crafted in front of a mirror with your pecker at half-mast–out there. No gimmicks.
Your readers appreciate that.
The rest are just, in the colloquial, “jelly” that they crammed their asses full of lit conformity and persona lessons.
You stuck to your guns.
We need you, Obi Chuck Kenobi.
For the record, I really enjoy your blog posts. This is one of only a couple places I check regularly.
I’ve read a lot of your posts, and I never once thought it wasn’t the real you.
Oh, and one more thing– I’m putting my money where my mouth is. I’m going to buy your twenty buck special on writing and suck your brain some more to try to get better at this craft. You, Sullivan, and Woodward are my Yodas.
I am a prude, through and through. Yet I appreciate your commentary and respect the ‘raw truth that is Chuck.’ Ignore what other people think. Be you for you. Period.
Thanks for the ‘I am who am’ just what I needed to start my writing day. I’m attempting my first book at 80 and getting advice thrown at me from all angles. I believe your blog will keep me on the right road. Keep blogging.
Thanks for sharing the voices in your head with us. We all have them and many of us are afraid to listen to them or give them voice because we might offend. Or because we might be taken off in a straight jacket as our family says, wow, that crazy old lady has really lost it. What happened to that nice person who never says a bad word or complains or gets angry or really says JUST WHAT SHE IS THINKING right now. I will be sixty this year and I find myself less inclined to tolerate the idiots in the world. With family support, from the teenagers to the old farts, I am opening a used book store. If I can’t write I can support those who can. And since it is my store, I have a list of authors that will be highlighted each month and you are first on the list. January will be Chuck Wendig month. My grandson is already a big fan too, and has been trained that used books are good but when you find an author you like, you buy new to show support. Because you want the writers to keep on writing forever to feed your addiction.
Old song by Harry Chapin “Flowers are Red”. If you haven’t heard it, please give it a listen. It always makes me cry. I am glad that you are one that will never use the standard colors in the box of crayons and color inside the lines. That’s why we like you. Oh, and because you are such a great writer. That too!
I’m a wife, mom, have a crazy-houred full-time job, take evening classes, and sometimes I write… I’m busy, you get it? So I only have time to read one blog. I pick yours. Yeah that’s not just a compliment… It’s a fucking genuflect.
God fucking dammit. This made me angry. Firs off, even if it were a shtick, you keep it up with sparkling consistency and deserve a medal. Also, if it were, I would STILL like you more than I could ever like a person like Hugh Fucking Howey.
If this was all a clever ruse to get writers writing the way they WANT to, and not hiding any part of them, then good fucking job. *throws awards at you*
If this was all a plan to sell the books that you, oh, I don’t know, SPEND YOUR HONEST FUCKING LIFE CREATING AND LABORING OVER, then okay, I would be proud to buy your books.
If being artfully offensive was all to get people to like you, well there are plenty of people who know how to swear and have unique and interesting minds, and I don’t love all of them the way I love you.
Because I know Chuck Wendig as a friend, and that man is the same man who writes this blog, and tweets, and sends Christmas cards and writes those books, and shows pics of his little boy, and shares his financial concerns and is fair and gives chances to people and who admits when he’s wrong and doesn’t apologize for his beliefs and I love that guy.
So fuck anybody else that thinks you could MAKE people like you by putting on a personality for a purpose. Create personas are not the same as created characters…. they’re dishonest. And that is one thing Chuck Wendig couldn’t be accused of.
I LOVE YOU, TURTS
BUT JULIE YOU SAID YOU LOVE ME! Do I not swear enough?