JOHN-J ANDERSON

I wrote a blog post some weeks ago in which I spoke about deleting four pages (some low number like that. I really don't want to go check) and at the time it felt like a huge amount of effort just erased. Well, I just deleted fourteen pages of writing from the final Bulldog novel because I decided to go another way with the chapter concluding Jacob and Cleo's stories. This week I wanted to discuss how that feels, removing hours of effort from your manuscript just to save the rest of its fluidity, I also wanted to discuss veganism but more importantly my strives to become whole-food plant based and also good endings both in life and literature. We can have a little catch up on everything else before I wave your ship back out into murky waters, let me ramble for a minute. Those fourteen pages, I want to call them collateral damage for the greater health of the novel, they came from days of sitting around at the desk and pulling imaginary hair out of my head. Writing fucking suck...

Its the 3rd of March, 2026. I felt it was time for another update, another lurid peak behind the curtain as I do my best to write these stories that rattle around in my head. As you already know, I am working on the third book in the Bulldog series - the final book before I close the cover on this series for good. Not that I haven't enjoyed writing it, but I dwindled on the completion of the third part for too long and now as I wade through and get to the finish line, I do find myself looking eagerly at other projects sitting in my notes. Just one line ideas that get the creative juices frothing more readily than the idea of finishing this story. BUT, it must be finished and as of right now I have finished the entirety of Franks chapters.  I should explain. This book will be unlike the first and second which follow a main protagonist (Frank and then Victoria) throughout. Bulldog 3 follows individuals as they navigate the final days of the events from books one and two. If y...

Nothing Happens at home.  No demands or job descriptions. No mandatory interactions or ceremonies. My home is a place where warmth is the hourly rate and comfort is my job. I can read books in silence. I can write epic stories no-one will ever read. My home is the place I can discover my real self.  My home is the place I can be the strongest man in the universe or the bubbliest man in the tub. I can cuddle my cat and tell her she's loved now. I can watch my turtles swim in silent sploshes. My home is full of things I can eat, without ever checking the labels. My home is the place my family can always find me, it's my lighthouse when life's a storm. I can lose myself in a record. I can sit quietly at my desk. My home is the place I will always be missing. My home is the centre of the universe. I can forget that all else exists. By John-J Anderson