The Bloom — failing

I don’t have a lot of nightmares, but when I do, they’re always strange and disturbing in a way that nothing else in life ever is, a bad acid trip crossed with a Stephen King story and wrapped in fat blanket of seriously freaky ugly. I had one last night. Nothing major. Just a bad dream that jolted me awake in the dark. And I lay there thinking: what’s the up with these things? If dreams are a way for our subconscious to process information and make connections we can’t see consciously, what are nightmares? Do they have a role...

I’ve been focusing on my writing. I have it in my head to see if there’s maybe a novel in there somewhere, so my laptop and I have become one as we wait to see if anything worth anything comes out. So far that’s mostly meant staring at a blank page. Except for those moments where I’m deleting the horrible few and far between paragraphs I actually manage to write. It’s pretty frustrating. I’m blazing a trail straight to failure as fast as I can. But I think that’s the trick. Last week I found a book called Art &...