Can I believe it is already the waning months of 2018? Having to work 60-70 hour at a 'normal' job in order to survive can be a lead weight on your psyche. I am jotting down notes and ideas on my phone's notes app consistently - but getting them into cohesive projects has been a slog.

I have three completed projects I need to market - two screenplays that have received wonderful feedback and are funny - and of course, my novel - which has received wonderful feedback as well - if you have read any prior post, it is the one that in 2011 was considered a 'man's book in a women's market.'

In 2011, any thought of self-publishing my comic crime novel was easily dismissed as then, it was considered a way for authors without the chops, but with the $$, could get their book printed and bound. (They then could fill Yankee Stadium with a hard copy)

But now in 2018... many authors are able to write, market and sell their books without the stigma that used to be associated with self-publishing. They call it 'Indie' publishing and there are careers to be had without having to find an editor at a major publishing house willing to put their neck on the line for an unknown author.

This is my path. I cannot continue on the one I presently trudge. I am a salesman, but one with a fatal flaw - I cannot sell something I don't believe in, or have to lie in order to close a sale. I cannot rip people off. I can't take advantage. I'm not good at it. I am the BEST, I mean the fucking best salesman when what I sell has a truth to it - if it was bread, I could sell it - but if I was told I had to present the bread as a loaf that could shrink tumors, and it had no such power; my numbers would be shit.

My current job I am told to lie, cheat and steal. There may be a need for what I am selling, but I am not the place they should be getting it from - there are mechanizations behind the curtain that would sour any potential client from working with me - if they knew the truth.

I left the job Friday. After a meeting where I was told I had too look at the customer as the enemy and it was a battle and I needed to pressure them until I was asked to leave, I couldn't go on.

It was 'Glengarry Glenn Ross' all over the place - and there were no steak knives in my future.

So I am back to square one at my age - I have no assets but my wit (and it seems to be waning) and whatever writing I have completed and the stories in my head yet to be realized on the page.

This is what I am - and what I must be. Shit or get off the pot.

So my lonely little blog page may get some activity in the weeks and months ahead. I know it is up to me to make it happen.