Sept the Sixth – Untitled Bigfoot Project (61/224)

Sept the Sixth

Journal, I spent about thirteen hours researching the process of writing a novel. I took pages and pages of handwritten notes (in one of my notebooks left over from my failed college experiment, and speaking of which, I’m starting to realize I didn’t fail college. The college failed me. Hell, the college is a business, and I bowed down to its capitalistic ways to the point where I felt it was my fault that my “professors” [read: professional teachers] didn’t know how to teach, what a hoot! I got scammed, scammed I say!), I read articles on articles on articles, I watched dozens of half-hour-long videos on the subject of writing, but that wasn’t enough.

Y’understand me, Journal? Thirteen hours of research just wasn’t enough. So, I did it all again today.

I’ve never felt so energized, so motivated to do something before. In truth I’m a little worried because I feel manic as fuck, but even if this is some weird kind of mania, at least I’m being productive with it, y’know? I have the good energy and I’m putting it to use, so what’s the problem?

Anyway… actually, quick sidebar.

…                                     …                                    …

College is not a scam. Not for everyone. I don’t know why I feel like this is important for me to acknowledge in my own private journal – perhaps because Stephen King went to college for writing and it worked well for him, or perhaps I’m just part of a ridiculously extra generation – but I don’t really think all college is a scam. Some occupations need their occupants to go through a very thorough training regiment, and college is the only place one can go to endure that regiment.


Some college majors – like, I don’t know, fucking POETRY?! – are not necessary. Sure, going to school for writing can help an aspiring writer quit their aspiring and get to the writing, but… how do I put this… some folks who aspire to be a writer need that inspiration to start themselves writing. Other writers – like myself, obviously, this journal is the latest in a lengthy series of journals I’ve written over the years – write out of habit, like it’s part of our DNA. Writers like me – I’m not going to call myself a true writer, because anybody who writes is truly a writer – don’t need to spend all that money on a piece of paper to feel like it’s okay for them to write down the wacky shit that pops into their head.

Writers like me do it all on our own, motherfucker. Step up or get to steppin’.

…                                     …                                    …

Anyway, so after two full days of researching the process of how to put a novel together, I think I have the whole process boiled down into five steps, which I’ll list to help me remember them. They are:

  1. Inspiration
  2. Notetaking
  3. Drafting
  4. Editing
  5. Publishing

And guess what? I already have step 1 down and done with. After that shit that went down on Aug the Thirty-First – not to mention the countless hours of my life I dedicated to building up the world of The Hillside Commons, even if it only exists in my head – I might be the most inspired son of a bitch who went on to be adopted in the entire world. Next up is notetaking – I know, that’s technically not a word, but considering how human words are made up by humans to be used by humans for the purpose of expressing and sharing human ideas, I think I can get away with making one up – and uh, after the past two days, my brain is undeniably in notetaking mode.

I say all that to say this, Journal: tomorrow I shall begin planning out my novel. Like, properly. It’s great that I have a first line (and a kickass first line it is), but there swings a lengthy bridge between that kickass first line and the second line it shall flow into, a bridge I must cross with laces in my shoes. Y’know, just in case I run into a Scotsman playing the pipes who needs me to dangle off the side so he can go on his merry way.

Important sidebar: Samurai Jack is the greatest goddamn animation out there. Next to Primal… and they’re both made by the same guy.


Anywho… yeah. I was very excited to write to you today, Journal. If you were capable of reading these words, I think you would see why. Now, I’m sleep.

Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Good sleeps and good dreams~

Hello Commons, this has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project, a novel about a writer who writes a novel about bigfoot.

Untitled Bigfoot Project is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.

Untitled Bigfoot Project is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

If you like Untitled Bigfoot Project and would like to help support my work, click here and buy an autographed copy of the book (or anything else!) from my store. Alternatively, you can snag a cheaper (and unsigned) copy from Amazon by clicking here OR you can buy the ebook for even cheaper here.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. Be well Commons~

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