Author: terribleminds

  • Painting With Shotguns #64

    Quicky update today (because I’ve got to go snowblow our surprisingly long-ass driveway), and for that I drag the ol’ Painting With Shotguns blog-mode out of the drawer. Forgive me, I suspect it smells a little like mothballs. And, curiously, like ferret musk. Don’t ask questions. Just read.

  • No, Seriously, I’m Not Fucking Around, You Really Don’t Want To Be A Writer

    And so it is time for my annual “Holy Crap The New Year Is Here And Now You Should Reevaluate Your Shit And Realize You’d Be Much Happier As An Accountant Or Botanist Or Some Fucking Thing” post. More reasons you do not want to be a writer:

  • What Makes For A Good Story?

    Next month, I’m thinking I might use this space to take the 40,000 feet view and leave the “writing” discussion behind for February — writing, after all, is really just a delivery system for storytelling. The pen scratching and the fingers tippity-tapping across the keyboard are merely a conveyance. We’re making the unreal real. Writing is a means to that end.

  • Hey, Writerface: Don’t Be A Dick (But Still Have Opinions)

    I have occasionally seen sentiment that suggests writers should be little church mice, little peeping cheeping baby birds who shouldn’t ruffle any feathers with talk of politics or religion or publishing or any of that. I call shenanigans on that.

  • From Bile To Buttercream: How A Writer Makes Use Of Rejection

    Rejection is a default state for the writer. And so it falls to you to make use from it. Make hay from your failures. Build sculptures from your wreckage. Compost your garbage and let it grow new things. It’s time to find truth in rejection. Find a way to make it useful, energizing, empowering.

  • Minecraft Jacks An 8-Bit Pick-Ax Into Your Brain

    This, then, is Minecraft. Imagine a game where you build with LEGO. You have 13 minutes to do so. You’d damn well better spend that time building a shelter. Because at the end of those 13 minutes? Night comes. And when night comes, so do the monsters.