Phil Cobb, Author

Fun, Follies and Loss of Innocence in Novel Land

Tag: novel

I’m tagged as a misfit

January 11, 2019 / / 10 Comments
Unnerved man at desk

When my year of novel writing flopped, I forced myself to enter the work force

If you tuned in to my prior post — A Flying Saucer Lands on Me — you know that my lifetime goal was to stay in my cheap apartment writing in my underwear.

To continue that wonderful lifestyle, I was counting on a quickie Western book to lasso me out of a deepening financial hole.

But when I tossed my manuscript over the transom of a New York publishing company, they heaved it back like a sack of mealy flour.

There was no more pretending to be a starving writer when the fiction might come true.

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A flying saucer lands on me

November 14, 2018 / / 10 Comments
Man staring up at a landing UFO

How did my Old West saga turn into a space opera?

My previous post — I Give Birth to a Baby — told how I came up with a desperate ploy to get cash from a publisher so I could keep writing full-time.

I settled on churning out a western because I knew all about the Old West from watching cowboy shows on television.

Thanks to blessed inspiration and being kicked in the ass by desperation, I had the manuscript ready to go in a month.

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A sharp poke in the eye

August 12, 2018 / / 22 Comments
Plaster patch on eye wound

Here’s what happened when I took on the meaning of life

As detailed in “I Get Run Off the Ranch,” finding a stable place to write was becoming a real chore, particularly when your own relatives kick you off their place.

To preserve your bankroll, you find yourself scouting out trailer parks and cramped attic dwellings as well as sketchy roommate ads.

When you’re told the rent will be figured out after you move in, you get a gut feeling that more than dollar bills will be involved. No, thanks.

Just as it looked like I might have to use PLAN B — the back seat of my car — I found an apartment with a Murphy bed.

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I get run off the ranch

July 18, 2018 / / 24 Comments
Tumbleweed on a road

Devotion to writing can turn you into a tumbleweed, but with mind-reading power

If you read my first blog post, “How I Killed My Birthday Party,” you know how I busted up that birthday party by reading before I could read.

After that, like you, I went to school and learned to actually read words. From then on, I always had to have a book to read.

Surely with that background, I would be a writer someday, not just a reader.

But have you ever attempted to do something great

 . . . and it turns out . . .

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