So first thing, I got some writing done today. About 1200 words. Whoo hoo! With the economy the way it is, the day job has been pretty doggone slow. Being a tattoo artist is pretty whimsical when it comes to the steady business. But, that’s ok.
When I got home tonight I dug out a stack of old notebooks that I had scribbled notes in for the Deacon Book and other things as well. There were some good ideas in there. Stuff that I will transcribe for later use.
Then I came across the novella I wrote. God it was horrible. I was trying to be Robert Jordan writing Conan, but not. The character was a celtic prince turned outcast who was a mercenary in Solomon’s army and thus became a believer in Jehovah who later was adopted by a clan of mountain warrior priests of the ninjitsu tradition called yamabushi.
No really, I am not kidding.
Trained in ninjitsu and as a yamabushi.
Believer in Jehovah from the Old Testament.
His name was Theok.
Fun, fun, fun. But I was young. I wrote it around the time I was 19. So it was awesome for 1989.
But reading it, even with it’s rank smell of old cheese, I did find some kernels of things I could mine again.
Anyways, it was a reminder of my roots.