Most of what I write is probably wrong.
I’m a late 20s American.
I write fictional short stories.
Also, I freelance.
I’m new at this. Therefore, I’m inept.
Sometimes I’ll change pages, delete them, modify them. This is all a draft.
Hopefully it will live. And I will live. And we will live together in one big ramshackle house.
It will be a house with many small spaces.
Where all there is to eat are questions. Can one become a writer? How often must one fail before one arrives? Is it really a meritocracy?
We’ll consumed all there is to consume.
I can be reached, via gmail.com at ineptwriter [reverse that].