The Lucky Cat Shop, coming soon!
Okay, so I'm not a very prolific writer. My old blog is seriously neglected, my books aren't getting done, blah, blah, blah. It's not that I don't have tons of ideas and unfinished works, I do, but getting them out of my brain and onto a page isn't as easy as it sounds. After all, Hemingway said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." And we won't even mention the stroke-inducing frustration of tweaking the formatting a million frigging times to get it just right so the print-on-demand gods are satisfied. That still lies ahead for me on TLCS. But SOON!
So, to hold you over until TLCS hits the presses and ebook sites, here is a snippet to get you interested.
The fact that I wasn’t dead did not reveal itself to me with as much clarity as one might imagine. After all, when you died, you should be dead. There shouldn’t be any sensation, any interaction with the environment and people still alive. Where was the tunnel of light and my loved ones waiting for me? I felt disappointed somehow, like the kid that got socks and underwear for Christmas instead of a puppy. I’d never shared Poppy’s vision of Pearly Gates and choirs of angels, but seeing my Mom and Dad would have been nice. All my life Poppy had done his best to indoctrinate me with his vision of the vast paradise that awaited those who would only open their stingy hearts and accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Frankly, after losing my parents and never hearing a peep from them, as much as I’d prayed for it, my heart was decidedly closed. Poppy told me if I wanted something badly enough, it would happen, but it never did, which meant that I was deficient in some way or he’d lied to me. When you’re five, there’s no room for error in your Poppy’s abilities. Therefore, it was somehow my fault that I hadn’t felt my parents’ presence again. The seeds of my agnosticism had been sown.
