Here are some updates on what’s up with me…

1) I’ve decided I am not going to partake in this year’s NaNoWriMo event. Here’s why: for the last month and a half, I’ve been dedicating myself to completing stories that have been languishing in various states of incompleteness, for various intolerable lengths of time. The last thing I want right now is another incomplete first draft sitting around accomplishing nothing. Besides…when have I ever been in danger of running out of new ideas?
2) Upping my artwork game ended up falling through the cracks this past year. Fortunately for me, I recently reacquainted myself with that ambition the moment I started coming up with cover ideas for a few books I want to publish within the next couple of years. Chances are, my handiwork won’t be what ends up gracing the books, but even rough drafts that are handed off to professional artists take some artistic talent to produce.
3) After eleven months at my new command and control center position, working exclusively the back end of the week, I’ve finally made my way to the front end of the week shift. Me? Having Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays off? Sounds like dangerous times to me. Some of that dangerous time will be spent writing, of course.
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Someone Else’s Hands

Yeah, I’ve been negligent about posting anything here for pretty much the entire summer, but believe me when I say I’ve been up to something.

Because my list of ‘in the works’ stories is getting ridiculously long, I’ve decided to pick one story from this list per month and work on it until it is ready for the next step. Last month, I finished a story about those in the afterlife who are trying to get in touch with us. This month, I’m trudging through a 20K+ word monstrosity that is actually a sequel to a short story I no longer admit to writing. Next month, I am purposely abstaining from NaNoWriMo in order to complete another incomplete story on my list as opposed to adding another title.

This entire endeavor is ambitious, but that’s probably what it will take to get some of these stories out the door and into someone else’s hands. They’ve been in my hands long enough.

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LINK: Steven Wilson Talks Streaming

Steven Wilson is a music guy whose work I’m quite familiar with. I originally checked out this interview because I am a music fan, but realized while reading it that his thoughts and feelings also dip into the writing world.

Steven Wilson talks streaming

If you’re an artist of any medium, Wilson’s insights will we well worth your time. Enjoy!

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No post today…

…I just wanted to share a photo I took during a day when I found myself going in a direction I did not consciously choose for myself. The unexpected image, I decided, was pleasing to my eye. I even came around to admitting that the situation that led me to being able to take this picture was worth being in, after all.

There’s obviously more to this story, but I already said I wasn’t going to post anything, just a photo that I enjoyed taking.

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Crawling Back Into My Own Mind

The sub-title of my blog, “Crawling into the Writing Mind of Steve Husk,” was inspired by a quote made by a former co-worker.

Back when my short story “Exhaust” first came out, the Senior VP of the company I was working for asked one of the business managers if he had read my latest literary offering; the manager showed a laughing grin and said: “No…I can’t crawl into Steve’s mind.”

I recognized the statement for what it was: a polite way of saying he had no intention of reading my story.

Here’s the tripped part: if I felt any feelings of disappointment or rejection after hearing that, I didn’t notice; I suspect they were overrun and otherwise unnoticed by my celebratory realization that his words weren’t too dissimilar from comments I’ve heard positively attributed to me several times before. I’ve actually had people tell me they checked out my works because they were intrigued by the challenge of crawling inside my mind to see what was going on in there. That sort of thing makes me smile.

Along those lines…I don’t know how many people will catch the difference between “writing what’s on my mind” and “writing what’s inside my mind.”

In my recent past, I feel as if I’ve been doing too much of the former. Reacting to what I see and what I experience with words that reflect. Most of those efforts delved no farther or deeper than where I already was. Not many of those efforts meant much to me once that brief wave subsided.

I have since challenged myself to get back to the latter. Expanding on my evolving beliefs and experiences with words marinating in passion and conviction. Even months after penning those thoughts, their flavor is just as mouth-watering to my soul.

To make this happen on a more habitual basis, I’ve been studying certain topics that demand self-evaluation.

Honest self-evaluation.

Not many people are up for that kind of a challenge.

An essay I stumbled across dealing with the fear of failure tasked me to pick up a pen and write about how that type of fear relates to me. I discovered a few tidbits about my personality and my tendencies that I never really paid attention to before…which is probably true because, whenever I saw a dark corridor in my mind bearing a “Fear of Failure” sign, I went the other way. This time, I’m glad I crawled those few extra yards inside my own mind. Now, with my hands filled with acknowledgement and wisdom, I can stand back up and share something previously unknown or unconsidered with those who wish to take the challenge of crawling in here with me.

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The Jersey Tells The Story

Anyone who knows me knows I like sports. Hell, if you’ve been following this blog long enough, you know that fact. So, as you might expect, I have an assortment of T-shirts and hats that praise my favorite teams. But, one thing I do not have are team jerseys.

Here’s why. I have what some people consider a very odd attitude towards wearing jerseys: I will not wear another man’s number. A sense of pride in who I am? Probably. But, the simple fact is that I won’t.

With one huge exception…


This is a throwback jersey of the Baltimore Colt’s great quarterback, Johnny Unitas.

I came to possess this jersey quite by accident.

Except…I don’t believe in accidents. The straight-to-the-point reason this jersey ended up in my hands was because I wanted it.

Why? I was never a Baltimore Colts fan. But, my dad was. I remember him telling me stories about some of their great teams in the past, and especially the exploits of his personal favorite Colt, Johnny Unitas.

Bingo! I knew the second I touched that jersey why it made its way to me, and decided right then and there that I would put it on a hanger and not wear it until my dad’s birthday.

Which is today.

Happy birthday, dad! If you were still with us, this jersey would be on your back. But, the next best way I can honor you on your day is wear your favorite player’s jersey in public all day to let everyone know where my enjoyment for sports came from…and I’ve already told the story about every aspect of your influence on me to three strangers so far today.

Love you!

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