With my better half strutting her talent on stage tonight, I slummed out the late afternoon and evening with pizza, ale and some good old fashion Netflix and Amazon TV binging.
Tonight I finished the first season of Titans. Man, that is a dark series. This darker tone and grittier feel seemed a good way to ground it and now I want to find out where it goes so Netflix and DC please sighn off on a next series.
I will be honest and admit to not being a huge comic book collector or reader but the producers of this and other new superhero TV shows of late seem to have finally understood there is a much larger audience who can enjoy the story without the armed knowledge of being a comic book reader, collector and fan.
Lets hope this ideology continues.
This humble author offers a sincere THANK YOU to those four readers who secured themselves a copy of TERROR AUSTRALIS.
The culmination of almost three years worth of wordcraft, rewrites, edits, more edits and killing my darlings with more edits has officially reached fruition. On October tenth I submitted the novel to Kindle for $2.99 US.
So why is it I felt this dull anti-climax feeling with a small sense of sadness and trepidation. Why you may ask?
As I said thirty-four month of investment. A time in which I nurtured the spark of characters. I lived with their pain, angst, life, death, and heroism. The machinations of my antagonists; yes there is more than one. The confusion, guilt, and strength of my protagonist and the ensuing ensemble. All of these things became personal as they grew through their arcs. So when the submit button was pushed it was akin to seeing your children leave home.
You raised them, schooled them, fed and cared for them and now they are on there own amongst the many others who would compete for their and the stories favor. A story which, in my humble opinion, is a bloody good one.
Can someone be good at many tasks but never at one. If so is he/she less ordinary?