I apologize for the long, long, long delay. But you will be happy to know that the manuscript for my novel has been completed. After short-lived trips into self-publishing and searching for an agent, I have decided to publish my complete novel in blog form. I need to start fresh, and as such I will not be using this blog for the completed work. I have also changed the title of my novel. I will keep you updated as developments take place. Thank you.

… after some thought, I have decided that I can’t blog my novel anymore. This does not mean that I have given up on my novel. But, frankly, I just can’t find the time to commit to doing this. I’m obviously inept at blogging, and I don’t know if I can find the motivation to blog on anything. I need to step back and figure out what I’m doing wrong. I have so much to say about the world, and I have more stories to tell, but right now, I just can’t do it.

As for my novel, well, I am struggling with that as well. I can’t seem to make time to work on it. But I’m still going to go through with finishing it. Perhaps doing it off the Internet will be better for the whole project.

I thank you all, however small in number, for patronizing my infrequent posts throughout the past year. I hopefully will have produced my first novel in a few months. After that, who knows? Thanks again.

What I’m doing now

In the next two months, I hope to have completed all the chapters in my novel. In addition, I will revise and edit and create final drafts for my existing chapters. I plan on marketing my novel by myself, and hopefully it will fall in the hands of a publisher.

Writer’s block

It’s been over a year since I started this project, and my writer’s block continues to drive me crazy. I don’t know if I can finish this by the end of the year. I’m sorry.

Nadine laid across the bed, draped in a pink robe and completely out of it, as usual. The clock read 7:45 AM, and by then dawn had broken. She slowly stirred, and then sat up. “God, I need a drink,” she muttered, sliding out of bed. Her knees buckled upon contact with the ground, and she was barely able to stand up.

She collapsed at the family altar, which was near the flat-screen television. She picked herself up, just, and knelt down to pray. But she didn’t pray in the classical sense. She clasped her hands together and mumbled something that was neither Italian nor English nor Latin, and made the sign of the cross with a half-hearted effort. At her bathroom sink, she opened a bottle of Listerine, poured a cup, and downed the contents.

A few minutes later, Nadine was walking slowly down the staircase when she saw Joseph walk in. “Oh, Joseph, it’s you,” she said, clutching the rail.

Joseph looked chipper and neater than his wife. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

“Yes, in fact,” she said with an attempt to be straight-faced. “How was it with Melanie?”

“Oh, the same. Dinner, dancing, but no nookie.”

“Right. I’ll get on with breakfast.”

Joseph walked over to escort Nadine, but she brushed him off. “I’ll be fine.”

A short while later, Nadine and Joseph were seated in the breakfast nook. His eyes were glued onto the National Post, and she was drinking coffee, which was unusual for her. And there were no bottles of liqueur in sight. Usually, she would “Irish” up her coffee, but this time, there was nothing but sweetener and cream.

“How’s your coffee?” Joseph asked.

“Delicious. It’s been over a month since I began the morning with something other than alcohol.”

“I can tell. The rosiness in your cheeks is back. I haven’t seen you like this since you were pregnant with Charlotte.”

Nadine put her cup down. “I can’t believe that Graziano is alive, and happy.”

Joseph nodded. “I can’t believe we ever had him in the first place. But my plan is going to change everything.”

“What plan?”

Joseph put down his paper. “Well, I don’t think it’s enough to get rid of him in one fell swoop. That would be too easy. No, here’s what I envision: on the 13th of December, we’re going to attack the very people that he loves the most: his teacher, his shrink, and his current whore.”

“Why December 13th?”

“Because it’s the feast of Saint Lucia, the patroness of the blind. None of them will see it coming at all.”

“Oh, that’s GENIUS!” Nadine exclaimed giddily.

“I know,” Joseph responded confidently. “I haven’t worked out the details just yet, but I figure that we can work with your private eye.”

“Sure thing,” Nadine said, sipping her coffee. “I have a meeting with him later today. After I fuck him, we’ll talk about it.”


The two continued their breakfast rituals: Nadine with the coffee, and Joseph with the paper. This went on for a few minutes, and then Nadine said, “Just one thing.”

Joseph looked up, worried. “What?”

Nadine walked over to the refrigerator. “Michael and Denise hate Graziano’s guts, too. They’re still pissed about what went down at Ashley’s party. Why don’t we get them in on it somehow?”

Joseph thought about it for a few minutes, and then nodded in agreement. “Ashley was really upset. She was crying a storm after that monster left. She hasn’t gotten over it, poor thing.”

“That boy has ruined too many lives in this family,” Nadine said as she took out a chilled bottle of Grey Goose vodka. “He’s ruined my life, your life, Charlotte’s life, Michael’s life, Denise’s life, Ashley’s life… the only way that any of us can get a good night’s sleep is if he’s done with once and for all. The best way to do that is to take out his ‘loved ones’, as you propose. We’ve done it before, and we can do it again.”

Nadine sat down and poured some of the vodka in her coffee. She drank it up, and said, “Now, THAT is going to make my cheeks rosy.”

Joseph chuckled. “You’re a lot more intelligent than people give you credit for, Nadine.”

“I know. Besides, Graziano has more suicide attempts than Princess Diana did. Eventually, something has to give.” Nadine leaned in toward her husband. “I haven’t felt this optimistic in years.”

“Who knows?” Joseph said. “Maybe we’ll be able to fuck each other for the first time.”

They looked at each other, and laughed.

I’m sorry.

Guys, I want to apologize for my erratic behavior in the last two posts. The thing is, I’m not really sure HOW I can build a reading circle. I’ve looked at other blog novels, and I’ve even built a page on Facebook. I do take responsibility for the failure and/or success of the blog. But I really do want it to succeed. I’d love for a publisher or someone in the business to come across it and see some potential in it. I realize that schlepping it just to people not in the know (people who aren’t writers) is not going to work.

I’m just frustrated with myself. The truth is, I have massive writer’s block. It takes so much time and effort just to sit down in the hope of writing, that I end up skipping it altogether. I’m actually scared of writing. I really want to put stuff down on paper (or post online), but I am so worried that it will come out disjointed, nonsensical, and not worth people’s precious time. My worst fear is that someone will say that I’m the worst writer he or she is ever seen, and that they wouldn’t even consider me to shine their shoes, let alone for a publishing deal. That’s why all the blogs that I’ve started over the years have failed big time. Well, in part. I don’t have a laptop and almost all the work that I do manage to put out, is in my family’s living room desktop computer. Perhaps if I had a laptop, I could get things done faster.

Once again, I’m sorry.

This has been the most important piece of writing that I have ever done in my life. And it pisses me off; no, IT FUCKING ENRAGES ME that few people are paying attention. The only comments that I have received pertaining to my blog novel are SPAM. MOTHERFUCKING SPAM! I don’t want ANY MORE FUCKING SPAM! I want actual feedback, even from people who don’t know a damn thing about blog novels or writing in general. I have invested a year in this project. I may not post as much as others, but it means a damn deal to me. Writing is the only thing that I know how to do in life. I created a fan page for this novel on Facebook, and no one has bothered to take a second look. I don’t know who I can turn to for critiques, for support, for anything. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! THIS IS NOT JUST ABOUT A NOVEL. THIS IS MY LIFE WE ARE TALKING ABOUT!



It’s time for a change…

… for the name of my novel, I mean.

I thought of the name “Good People in Bad Times” as an homage of sorts to Toronto’s LGBT theatre, Buddies in Bad Times. But I’ve never really been easy with it. It just seems so cumbersome and blah. Therefore, I have come up with these alternate titles:

  1. I Deserve Better
  2. How Graziano Buonfiglio Reclaimed Himself
  3. G.T.A.
  4. The Italo-Canadian Experience as Seen Through the Eyes of a 28 Year Old Gay Boy/Man
  5. The Good Son of Toronto
  6. Family Portrait
  7. Seasons Change
  8. Three Months in the Life of Graziano Buonfiglio
  9. 28YO
  10. My Name is Graziano Buonfiglio
  11. In Bad Times Come Good Things
  12. Brawn and Bruises: A Love Story
  13. Insert Pretentious Coming-of-age Story Title Here
  14. My Family HATES Me
  15. Me vs. Them

However, in reading these, they too seem lame. I’m not really good with titles. It’s definitely harder to come up with a title than it is to write the whole story, or poem, or whatever. I suppose that’s what publishers are for. However, I’ve been in bookstores and libraries enough times to find many of the titles either too on-the-nose or just plain ridiculous. Especially books written by celebrities. This Time Together by Carol Burnett. Out of Sync by Lance Bass. Life is Not a Fairytale by Fantasia Barrino. Gag me with a spoon. Fiction titles aren’t any better. Have you read Stieg Larsson’s The Girl Who… series? No offense, but titles like The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest sound like episodes from America’s Next Top Model.

If anyone wants to contribute a possible title, send me a message.

Audio Post