The good, the bad, and the ugly

Since my last entry, I have elected to scrap what was intended to be my sophomore novel. A brief overview of the history: Said "novel" was originally a graphic-novel, worked on by me and a co-worker, some six years ago. The project was scrapped do to creative - and, honestly, awkward - differences. I had added more to the lore here and there for the next four years, when it was re-visited as a possible serial, self-published comic. Again, this idea fell through. However, at this point I'd constructed a vast and, if I only say so myself, an impressive universe around the story and characters. Enough so to consider converting it into a book. After conducting a little research, I outlined chapter by chapter. Of course, as I prepare to commit to writing this thing out, I discover the release of the second novel by an already accomplished author - whom I can't deny, I adore his work. His second novel was...drum roll...exactly my novel; written over a year opposed to six, and backed up by a best seller. Lamentable. Of course, friends will say, and be absolutely right, that there is a finite amount of tales floating around, and all an author does anymore is retell the same thing but in their own way. While it sounds true, I felt discouraged, and this project has been vaulted once more. Since my last entry (v.2), I've juggled whether to or not to self-publish Concealed Weapons. Again, after what feels like a lifetime of work (with research, outlining, draft, writing, re-writing, reconstructing, revising, revamping, razing, etc), I'll never be fully pleased, nor ashamed of, this book. It's commonplace, it's a little immature, but it is my first born. Like everything else I've written since and everything that will come before my light goes out, it tries to say more than comfortable in one serving. Do I self-publish and put it out of my mind, or is that simply giving up? Since my last entry (v.3), I HAVE found inspiration again, and AM working on a new, new novel. In short it will be about: Loss, cupidity, the line where an intentional community goes from being labeled a cult to being labeled a religion, the disorder that erupts from order, conjoined paths, causality, hope, the gauge between constructive narcotic use and drug addiction, and of course ascension. Is there a title? no; Do I call it something in my note just because? yes. Other things: I'm not going to ramble on about any journalism stuffz, if that's what you want to call it. It comes and goes, it never pays well, it's usually not worth pointing out you did it. Enough said. Until we meet again. gari