I suppose I've been bad. I've been spending way too much time in Harper Collins slush pile. It's been a pilgrimage of discovery. For the most part? I've been discovering how not to write. I've discovered, in amongst some very nice people, the dregs of society - humanity. There's a thing called authorism, a parody of western society. Anything not understood, beyond the rabble's collective comprehension gets nuked. Those not knowing the correct usage of the m-dash, n-dash, and the gerund, are unskilled and suitable only for manual labour.
There is racism, born of ignorance. My proposal for This is how I walk; In my Black Shoes went down like a lead balloon. Despite the "anti" lobby - the work is still ranked in the top 100 on the site. There are probably 1000 active manuscripts, so #100 is a fair achievement.
Fibonacci's Child is even more interesting, the novel currently sits a #30, despite an old-school presence that refuse to read or vote for it.
The biggest discovery has been about me, my writing, and the realisation that I'm a fraud. 'Adult themes in simple terms' is what I claim to write. However, apparently I have a prose muscle, which I flex mightily in the short-haul.
I'll blog again tomorrow, and I'll try to keep up.