Mark this on your calendar: Feb. 19, 2011.
It's the day I became (or am becoming) a full-time fiction writer. Well, also an editor, gardener, and occasional non-fiction writer. Plus maybe other things for money. But it's cool to say, very pompously, "A-hem, I am a full-time fiction writer." Back when I was a writer, I never told people I was a writer. Now I'm a writer and I feel pretty much the same, except I wear clothes with holes in them and don't have to comb my hair.
Anyway, when they unroll the crumbling scrolls in 2049 and look back at the myth that was Scott Nicholson, this will be the birth date. I expect to fail spectacularly, but it also feels so completely natural, as if all my life has pointed and led to this, that resistance is futile. Success, come and take me. I no longer fight you, and I'm no longer afraid one way or another.
Well, coincidentally, I babble some at
Midnyte Review today.
Published on February 19, 2011 15:14