Author: terribleminds

  • Pantser Versus Plotter

    I’m saying, if I can’t remember what the hell I was supposed to do in the kitchen, if I can’t remember a band’s name or that we need to pick up milk, how the crap am I supposed to keep an entire unwritten novel straight in my head? Short answer: I’m not. And neither are you. My name is Chuck Wendig. I am a reformed Pantser.

  • How Not To Starve And Die As A Writer

    “Did you know that fewer than 1% of writers are able to make a living wage, or even scrape together enough money to buy black market Ramen flavor packets from dubious Laotian street merchants? Every minute, three people give up their dreams of being a writer and become inept middle managers.”

  • March Is The Month Of “Penmonkey Boot Camp”

    This is the month of no-holds barred writing advice. I will rant. I will rave. I will cram a fountain pen in your neck and I’ll suck up a draught of your neck-blood and then together in your blood we shall write a list of our failings as writers so that we may overcome them.

  • A Bonus Round Of Search Term Bingo

    Time again for SEARCH TERM BINGO, little babies. If you don’t know how this works, here it is: people discover this website via some of the strangest search terms one could imagine. I pluck these search terms out of obscurity and dissect them for gits and shiggles.

  • Throw Your Links In The Ol’ Link Dump

    Man, since doing away with a regular edition of Painting With Shotguns (originally mistyped as “Painting With Shoguns,” which is my cable access show wherein I learn how to paint from an ancient Japanese shogun who has been displaced in the timestream), I no longer get to just barf up a bunch of Internet links into your lap.

  • It Goes Down Smooth: The Shackleton’s Scotch Flash Fiction Results

    The other day, I said: “Hey, you. That’s right. You. It’s time to write a flash fiction challenge based on Shackleton’s Scotch.” And somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 of you crazy motherfookers tossed your flash fiction down on the stage and were like, “BOOM goes the dynamite.”