I Know What My Next Novel is Going to Be

And it’s not going to be Hollywood Whisper … aka Truffle Butter.

For a while I’d been toying with an idea I’ve titled Side Chick. I admit, the plot’s not that innovative: A family man becomes involved with an unhinged woman, shit hits the fan, terror ensues.

And it’s also a story that firmly fits within the genre of “hood fiction” — my first take on hood fiction, Orange Mound, has quickly and recently become a readers’ favorite, and since I’m interested in writing tales that are commercially viable, I’m thinking another trip to the well can’t hurt.

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A Zero Draft Thirty Update #ZD30Script — Day 16

OK, so we are 16 days into Zero Draft Thirty, the writing challenge in which we are supposed to write a “zero draft” of a screenplay in 30 days.

As the challenge mandates we write at a pace of four pages per day, at this point we should be at Page 64.

On Untitled NYC Comedy, I am at Page 58.

I know, I know. I started off cheating and now I’m a few pages behind. However, I am not worried. I will soon be taking time off from the day job, and during that period I vow to catch up in the most spectacular of ways.

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📝 #AuthorLifeMonth Day 4: My WIP 📝

So as many of you know, I shelved the novel I had been working on — but that should not suggest I stopped writing altogether. Oh no no no.

In fact, during the writing of Hollywood Whisper I was also working on plot outlines for several future projects. One of those ideas spoke to me above all the others, and I decided to use it as the basis for my current WIP, a screenplay I am publicly calling Untitled NYC Comedy.

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Good Riddance 2016, and Hello 2017!

As I’m sure most of you will agree, 2016 was one bitch of a year.

Not only did we have to deal with numerous celebrity deaths and the crushing disappointment of a presidential election hampered by an increasingly antiquated process (not to mention both the media’s coverage of the candidates and the arrogance of third-party millennial voters), but I suffered personal losses as well.

I didn’t really speak publicly about this, but my mother’s death in August affected me in ways I couldn’t before conceive. Then there was the jinxed jaunt to Los Angeles over the Thanksgiving holiday, during which I was the victim of bank fraud. And I was beginning to feel a whole lot less fulfilled personally and professionally.

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