After yesterday’s post, I feel like people would like to know what comes next. And the thing is – nothing. Nothing comes next. That’s it. End of story. Blackness. It’s not an excerpt. I was just exercising. Like now. But this is more like a free write, and more how I expected to use this commitment. The fact is, there’s a lot of that stuff up there (pointing at head) that gets all mixed up and pushed around and watered down and placed in back of the closet and rarely sees the light of the moon. And yesterday just came out. In about 15 minutes. At first I was like, hey, this could be a good story – but I wasn’t writing a story. I was inventing dialogue around a picture that popped into my head – and I was trying to fill up 300 words. 

Useless drivel. 

Which brings me to why I’m doing this at all.  

I’m a lousy businessperson. Which is to say I’m honest about everything. And that shit doesn’t fly in traditional business ideologies since making money is how success is measured in business. However, this concept is flawed in that in order to do this, most (most) businesses have to exploit other things to see any profit. It’s how Walmart thrives. Buy in bulk = buy it for less.  Build the world’s most efficient logistics system, mark up prices (that are still competitive) – bam, profit. I’ve had my own business since 2001 but I’m never going to be rich because I don’t desire it enough. Thus, I’m always at the mercy of the market – using elbows to push into certain spaces. I’m really good at what I do, but I’m not a businessperson. I’m a writer. That’s the only control I have. It’s my only way out. 


Jim is a father, husband, writer and entrepreneur. You can find him on Twitter @smashadv.

The Last Day
Viva la vie

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.