Over the last 14 years, I have written a good many tales - most of which are of the horror genre. Some darkly and unashamedly Gothic, others metaphysical nightmares intended to slowly and methodically tug the reader into those realms hinted at by recent advances in theoretical and quantum physics.
And other works are done simply for my amusement. To render God, Lucifer and Christ accessible - sort of a literary 'dare', so to speak. A why not mentality prevails through these stories.
I've also dabbled in humorous science fiction, and if I can ever locate a particular file in the vastly nefarious schematics of this most irritating piece of machinery we call a computer, it, too, will have its day.
Which brings me to the crux of the matter: having been a writer (both semi-professionally and twaddling about unleashed to my own devices on a completely amateur level) for these many years - MANY of my stories are in formats I've not yet managed to unlock/convert on this infernal PC. Such as Lotus, and God knows what else I've used over the years. WHICH (insert many deep and heartfelt sighs of frustration) is why my favorite of them all - The Emial Watcher tales - has not been published further. Oh yes, there are absolutely buckets and gallons of successive chapters.
I ... just ... cannot ... unlock ... the ... files! And yes, I do know that I probably can BUY the proper programs for installation on this computer. But right now I haven't the funds to do so (so much genius, so little hard cash) (just kidding) (maybe).
However, the little devils WILL get published. I promise. I'm still searching the internet for free drivers, downloads and all that nonsense. Well, actually my son is ... because honestly, I hate all that tech stuff.
Anyway, on the brighter side (of this tarnished coin), I do have several semi-fictitious humorous shorts I've written, and they'll get posted as soon as the planets are properly aligned and/or I get around to it.
Additionally, because we creative folk are ever mercurial boogers and therefore land wherever the finger of the Great and Terrible Muse doth flick us, there is a great tendency to have many stories as works-in-progress, for when the mood should descend to take up residence where we last left off. Sort of a creative playground in stasis.
So there you have it. My incompletes are not a matter of interest lost. Rather, they represent a lack of software, time and so forth. And some are slides patiently waiting for my mind to sail down their slippery slopes once more.
Given enough time and resources (which includes an IV of caffeine, preferably in the form of diet Mountain Dew - properly chilled, of course) I would happily write my brains out, astound the world, enthrall my audience, likely get myself committed to the nearest mental facility, or wander off to take a nap. It's a funny world.