Tag: art
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Musings
Most of what I draft is a conceptual placeholder–in one of my books, I cut out 67% of the drafted material, going from 435k words to 143k words. In the first draft, there’s some gems here and there, but it’s mostly just dirt that keeps the gems in place, and highlights their shine so I…
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
Goddamn…why am I staring down at my face? No, don’t tell me… “HE’S DEAD!!!” A horde of milfs crowd my body, obstructing it from my aerial perspective. “This award-winning Man Whore deserves to be in a museum!” They all burst out in murmurs of assent. “We only have so much ice, which means we can’t…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the Fart Pact is happening, all you covenant-breakers who’re sitting in a group of mildly-well-acquainted folks who are all wrinkling their noses and pretending not to notice because one of you—ONE OF YOU—just tried to sneak a silent one past the group but it fell fucking short and now all of you are trying…
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Musings
My life is more pleasant when I allow things to be; without straining to define, categorize, or cross-reference things into intellectually digestible boxes. Personally, I find definition/categorization/cross-referencing naturally occurs in the right amount, at the right time, and at the right place when I abide in allowance. Life is especially pleasant when I don’t tunnel-vision…
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
What the fuck? I wake up and glance at my bedside alarm. It’s 1 am, and someone’s blasting the punching bag in my garage. I rack my 9mil, get out of bed, and slowly make my way down the stairs. I line up my muzzle, eye, and foot, and start cutting the pie on the…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the apocta-beej is happening, all you supposedly lucky mofos who’re the recipient of a hoover-like mouth attached to a jackhammer neck and holy shit it’s causing you to see angels and interdimensionals and the unshaven b-hole of long-lost deities, simultaneously, unbeknownst to you, some frantic scientist in the depths of a super-secret underground base…
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Musings
Over the years, I’ve come to believe in a realm of truth that lies beyond theory and surface deduction, a place where answers are not just detailed in clinical logic, but where they are also intuited and deeply felt–where we live and breathe their core essence, and fully embody their organic spirit.
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
I typically lift at a bro-heavy gym. I’m pretty meticulous about maintaining my physique, so they don’t bat an eye when I’m doing my thing. Due to the fact that I can put up decent weight, they assume I yell sports’ star names when I throw wadded paper into the trash can, or chant “USA,…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the grappling-dick is happening, my fellow big-wienered folk who’ve managed to piss off your archnemesis to the point where you’re naked and blindfolded and standing up at the very fucking edge of a thousand foot drop, they’re pointing a gun at your head and giving a menacing-ass speech accompanied by orchestral DUHTs and DUH-DUHTS! …
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Musings
When I was younger, I placed total consideration into technicalities and procedures, quantifying possibility into rigid measurements and expectations. Later, I saw implicit wisdom in Tarantino’s reply when he was asked how to break into the film industry. He said, “Write and direct Reservoir Dogs. That’s what I did.” Through his tongue-and-cheek reply, he showed…
Kent Wayne 