Nighttime blabbering 969

It was my second day for harvesting potatoes. We are using hoes, so it’s the traditional way of harvesting. In the modern days, I’ve seen people utilizing plows and contraptions that help with work, and then I’ve seen some handmade stuff with spikes that sift through the dirt and pull out the potatoes. Hoe is almost a crime to carry since it belongs to history, and it’s the most rarely used tool today. I suspect it will take me one more day to finish with the potatoes, and then I already have the next chore for me to do. A friend needs assistance with the corn silage, and he harvested wheat for me, so I want to return the favor and pay my debt.

After all that, I hope to orient back to writing and plotting a new novel or a story, but I haven’t decided yet. The last short story I posted on the portal drew some attention, and I am happy people gave it a read and commented on it. It sounds like I can try myself with an anthology or something, but then again, I am fearful those sorts of things don’t sell as much as full-blown novels. I can always pretend the novel is an experimental piece made out of short stories and view through the stranger’s eyes, providing different aspects and take on our reality, playing with the narratives, and creating quirky and funny characters to thread a whimsical vibe into already dull, grey and depressing storytelling. I don’t know, but I realized that most of my novels and stories have that grimdark nuance. Was it a mistake to put it there? I like it, and because I like it, I don’t mind it, but then again, will someone have a problem with it?

If you are one of the returning readers, a dear friend, you probably remember my rant a few years ago when I wanted to try writing comedy and couldn’t figure out what makes things funny. I am better at grim, drama, and action stuff, so I should stick to my guns and shut up. I can’t be good at everything, but I can be decent at it, or at least really good at one thing. That doesn’t sound bad to me.