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The Inaugural Issue
aka Ozzy Doesn't Know What The Hell He's Doing But He's Doing It Anyway
They say that a writer needs to know their audience. Know who they're writing for.
I'm fortunate then, that my subscriber list right now is small enough that I can truly say that I DO know my audience.
This will change, over time. People will sign up, and maybe some of them will come back and read some of these back issues. Still, I like the semi-intimate nature of this right now—it's performative, but safe; a safe space in which I can start as I intend to continue.
As I write this, it's Saturday morning. I've had a leisurely one, a good breakfast, a better coffee, and some engaging online conversations online.
You'll note that none of that is actual writing. Except this, I guess, but this doesn't move my word count forward.
That, much like the rest of everything I do, is a work in progress.
A few nights short on sleep this week, nights where sleep was a foreign land with obstructionist border control officers. I managed to make use of some of this time, including the initial setup of this newsletter, but it impacted negatively on my writing time.
I work a day job, and while it's work from home, it still sucks my creative battery dry. I find that the best time for me to write is in the mornings, early, before I start the more mundane part of my day—the mind is fresh, and creativity flows more freely then. So, my alarm is set for "EARLY", and when that works, it works well.
When sleep has avoided taking me until after 3am though, then my 4:30 alarm is not something that inspires me to leap out of bed and scurry to my writing desk.
Here's to next week being a better week.
50 Word Story
“Become a Knight” they said. “Good money, pretty girls.” He liked fighting, so sure, why not? Years of arduous training, tedious repetition of catechism, and here he was. On guard duty. Eating dust at the tail end of the wagon train. Bored beyond endurance.
Behind him, sunlight glinted from lance-tips.
Exercises
Years ago, I took a Creative Writing course. I’d been writing for a few years by that point, and even after the first couple of sessions, I regarded it more as entertainment and socialisation than education.
Then, in our third session, we were given an assignment.
“Write a 50 word story. Exactly 50 words; no more, no fewer.”
That week, I wrote about 15 of them.
I’ve long been a reader of novels. I prefer long-form works, multi-novel series being preferred over stand alone novels. So, of course, that was what I naturally aspired to write. I didn’t consciously spurn shorter form works, but writing them simply never occurred to me.
This exercise opened my mind.
50 words is a tight constraint. You need to imply a lot in a few words, leave space for the reader to fill in gaps where you haven’t said anything.
You can tell a whole story that way.
If you’re a writer (and remember: I know my audience, so I know you are), why not give it a try?
Current Works in Progress
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From Write With Ozzy:
Don’t Expose Your Ideas Too Early
Ideas are fragile when they’re new—small, tender things just starting to put down roots.
Pull them out into the light too soon, and they stop growing.
They get performative. Self-conscious.
They start bending to fit what other people expect.
You get suggestions that don’t quite match your vision, and you shift things to make them fit anyway.
You feel guilty ignoring a friend’s input—especially if they’re enthusiastic, supportive, well-meaning.
Slowly, the idea stops feeling like yours.
It becomes a hybrid, a chimera of muddled expectations.
Outro
That was my week. How was yours?
Too little sleep, too much gaming, too few words.
I hope yours was better than mine, and that next week will be even better for all of us.
Until next time….
O.