Wanna Talk About It? No, Let’s Write.

When the English language was created, the word “literally/literal” had a straight definition of “actually” or “exactly.”  In the more recent years, the word “literally” has been turned into a dry metaphor that is appearing to be gaudier than intended.  Literally has such a deadpan feeling when it’s said, that it has no meaning as of late.  When using literally in a sense that would make good context, you could say “I literally only got six hours of sleep last night,” which could be true in a sense.  But, if someone says “I literally almost died,” while swimming in the deep end of a pool, that’s a dry exaggeration that isn’t appealing or wholesome in any way.  In an ironic way, nothing means anything when someone places the word “literally” in front of it anymore.  If the truth is covered up by a metaphor that was never introduced in the English language as a metaphor, then the whole idea of properly using words is irrelevant.  Saying words matter-of-f...

Let’s get something straight, I’m a writer.     Though, I’m considered different because I live a semi normal life.     Take Thompson for example: a lonely, desperate man who wanted attention and the love of a true caring father.     He took that desperation and rung out the water on his hair to fuel his burning passion for writing.     Or we’ve got King whose father left at an early age, or Hemingway with war trauma, or Fitzgerald with alcoholism and triumphant depression.     Those guys have cracked the code for writing, publishing, and writing more.     They lived in a world where men weren’t supposed to extract their feelings and elaborate to someone else; they were supposed to ball it up into a red capsule and gulp it down dry for it to be shit out twelve hours later.     Those guys knew how to write, because they had that semipermeable sense of mind that could drive me hysterically mad; they knew that their chil...

               Good morning.  Physical Media.  Encyclopedias, DVDs, books, magazines, newspapers, vinyl records, CDs; they’ve all become more obsolete than we care to admit.  I can't remember the last time I saw someone under the age of 45 willingly buy a newspaper.  Most people would ask “what’s the use?”  Everything that people would ever need is right in their hands.  This tiny electronic box that can answer more questions than any one book ever could.  Today I will be using the Rotary 4-Way Test to speak on Physical Media and how to fix our technology craze.  Is it the truth?  Is it fair to all concerned?  Will it build goodwill and better friendships?  And will it be beneficial to all concerned?  First, is it the truth?  Well, about 7 percent of adults in the past decade have stopped reading books altogether.  It’s a strong hunch to say that the Baby Boomers and maybe ...

  It should come to people’s attention that I’m a well off and non-closeted pantser when it comes to writing.  There are writers out there who plan longer than they write in a day.  Then there’s fellows like Stephen King, Jerry Jenkins and me, who identify as pantsers.  Writers who write by the seat of their pants; we virtually pull words and paragraphs and books out of our pants, slap them on paper and expect it to be good.  With the well known writers, they’ll always do fine, but the little guys—like me—are left behind in the dust.  A lone, musty dust that clouds my eyes and sprinkles my hair with particles.  Staring blankly isn’t easily avoided if you’re a pantser or not, it’s a known fact that writer’s block is bound to hit the best of us.  I’m not the best, but I consider myself enough of a writer to experience it fully.  That’s fair.  What’s next?  Maybe he’ll go into a bar and shoot that couple dancing and slamming martinis ...

I’d like to say a few words before I begin.  Thanks Jim Thompson.  Alright, from the top.  My name is Dyer.  Drake Dyer.  I’m a rising senior at Hendersonville High School, thriving off of nothing except my recently published book and the art of writing as a whole.  My life started prematurely, at just six weeks from my due date.  I was four pounds and ten ounces.  I was born Monday, April 4th, 2005 at 10:42p.m.  My twin sister was born two minutes before me, and often rubs that rash more than I can accept.  It gets irritating from time to time, but nothing I’m not used to.  Let’s get started, shall we.  If writing were in any kind of prescribed supplement, I'd be first in line to take a few bottles and overdose on it.  It's something that I can struggle with--and have with before--but can succeed with once in the flow of my brain.  It comes easier when I'm stressed or angry.  It took me six days to finish writin...