Publishing is not what it used to be.

Or at least I don’t believe it is. In my naivety, I envisioned the plight of penniless author, tramping the cobbled path from the sharply closed door of one plagued literary impresario to the heartless agency of hopeless dread found at the next. Manuscript placed at the base of a towering pillar of others, each the tireless work of aspirant apprentices.

I find that is not the way.

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I’m new to this.

A gentle stroll through the profusion of well-intentioned counsel available to novice novelists will not necessarily provide one with the answers sought. Moreover, I should say, it certainly will not. There is no formula.

Art will never please everyone. Not painting, design, performance or literature.

I began by being determined to disprove that immutable truth and, of course, failed and then despaired. I looked too hard for drama. I believed only the most shocking or challenging stories warranted telling. That only they could grip the reader. I’m sure, when written well, they do just that.

But they are not alone.

So, welcome to The Goose Samaritan.

Continue reading “I’m new to this.”