I'm not dead!

Not yet, anyway. I haven't published any horse words in what, five months? Sorry about that. I've been doing a good deal of writing off-site, though it's basically all nonfiction. I also got a job, which is basically full-time. Between that and writing two to three articles a week, I don't have as much time as I used to. Which, looking at it a certain way, at least this gives me a much stronger excuse than, "I don't feel like writing horse today."

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Assuming you're a local resident of the horse words community, you're no stranger to several different ship arrangements. The most popular, of course, is one horse paired with another horse. Or a horse paired with a non-horse creature, who knows? But the point is that, even in a community where we can find ships of every shape and size, monogamous ships are still the most common. Not a bad thing, of course. I don't have anything personal against pairings, God knows all the ships that

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Izzy can ride my [CENSORED] all day tho, I don't give a FUCK.

I don't know about you, but I've been reading some c l a s s i c l i t e r a t u r e again lately. Specifically I've been returning to two authors whom I started reading in high school, many moons ago, and with whom I've had a rather complicated relatationship ever since. They're the authors who basically introduced me to reading "serious" fiction at a time when I mostly read genre fiction. I'm of course talking about the two dads of 20th century American literature: William Faulkner and

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Rather than talk about real-world events here, or anything regarding my personal life, I've felt especially compelled recently to talk in a long and rambling way about a certain mode of fiction writing that I feel is often underappreciated.

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Some people I follow have done this, and I figured... why not. I mean really.

50 QUESTIOOOOOONS

1. What is your first name?
Brian. Boring-ass name, not a fan of it. Knew like three or four Brian's in high school.

2. How old are you?
24, gonna turn 25 in December. I don't feel too good about it.

3. What country are you from?
'Murrica.

4. What do you look like?

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Read, read, read. Read everything—trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.

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Honestly, I feel like I don't even need to say more than that. But I'll say just a bit more. Apparently the sequel to Ready Player One (one of the worst novels I've read in the past five years, and I read a lot of novels) is happening, presumably because Ernest Cline is a washed-up hack writer who needs to capitalize on the property that brought him any serious recognition. The fact that Ready Player One was nominated for a Hugo and tied for the Prometheus Award gets my blood

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