Write Honest!

If you are quitting indie publishing, you were never a writer.

Number one rule to writing. Be Honest!

I have heard a lot of talk lately of people quitting indie writing… Holy ever-loving shit! Are you kidding me? Why would you do that? Because you’re not living in a palace cranking out your words to your adoring fans?

We have become a bunch of cry babies. Less than a decade ago Independent publishing was one expensive, two very hard to sell a book, or make a book. And three, and kind of embarrassing. They called it vanity publishing.

We are spoiled. We have the technology to make paperbacks cheap, make digital copies, and distribute them to the fricken world! And we whine.

The title of this blog is Write Honest so that is what I am going to do. The reason why some people are quitting indie publishing isn’t because they aren’t making any money. The reason is they never liked writing in the first place! To be an author you have to like writing!!!!! DUH!!!!

In the event that I’m wrong about this, I’ll say this. If you are not going anywhere with your books, and you’re thinking about quitting then you have fallen into the trap of expecting something. I am going to give you a cold hard fact. Nobody wants to read your book. It is your responsibility to make them want to read it. You need to find your joy in writing once again. You know. Like years ago when you would buy that 89 cent spiral notebook at the store, take it home and put all of your deepest thoughts in it. You took joy in that. Even if no one was going to read it, much less pay for it!

We are the thieves of thought, and the scribes of the sub-conscious!


Write crazy shit that will make people raise their eyebrows and say that chick is off her rocker… Write something that makes you think. Write honest. Not for reviews, or money, or your family, or your editor, or because of some genre trend. Write because you love it! Write because you want to! If you don’t like writing then don’t do it!!!! If you think it is an easy and quick way to make money, maybe you should try your hand in insurance, or flipping houses. Be honest with yourself.

Pre-Order The life of Ants

Click the image

Write, Create, Show Up

“The chief enemy of creativity is good taste.” – Pablo Picasso

Write, Create things. There are no rules, and anyone who tells you that there are rules… Isn’t doing anything. But what do I know? Well, nothing. But I shouldn’t let that stop me from writing, or creating something.

My problem used to be I was worried about what people would think of something that I wrote. It would suck, or I’d miss spell a word, or screw up on grammar. Then they would come out of the woodwork! They would hunt me down with their torches and pitchforks. Sneering and pointing and laughing. I would get this in my head, and guess what would happen? Nothing. I would write nothing. Like most people I was asking for permission from people who usually didn’t exist, or just didn’t matter.

The most horrible times in my life were not when people were critical of my work. The times I felt the most horrible was when I wasn’t creating anything at all. When I was frozen because of something someone was going to say. I was forgetting the most important rule to being successful with creativity. Actually doing something creative!

So for a while now I have been taking my own advice. I write everyday. I try to be creative everyday. Some of the things I write might be shit, and some of it is going to be great. People don’t remember the shit anyway. I am showing up, and creating.


The Life of Ants


Blinded by our arrogance

Aliens wouldn’t waste their time on us.

Why haven’t aliens come to talk to us?

The short answer is we are too stupid for them to waste their time on. Do you try to talk to ants?

My question is, what if they have been trying to contact us for years but they just can’t get through to us. How would they go about it. More than likely anything they tried would scare the crap out of us. Their means of communication would be so foreign to us it would look like something out of a horror movie. Being the jumpy species that we are with our ancient reptile brains, we would likely see a threat rather than a handshake.

After contact they would probably leave us to ourselves rather than give us any knowledge they know about the universe, and our own planet. They would simply give up and move on. I think these being would have something better to do. Why talk to some idiots who don’t know what they are capable of and don’t have the brain power to even figure it out. They would find us… Well… boring.

So… enter my twist. I write stories. And the story of contact with aliens can’t end on, “Oh they were boring.” Here is an alternative story. The Life of Ants.

The Life of Ants by Ernie Howard



Pre-Order on Amazon.

They don’t hear it. Keep writing!

Get ready to go it alone. Get ready for the endless barrage of people telling you just how crazy, and irresponsible you are even if there are actual people who make a living doing exactly what you are trying to do. Get ready for the people closest to you putting it down, and telling you that you have not made a dime. Get ready to be misunderstood. Do you got all that?

Okay. Keep fucking writing. Keep chopping wood. Keep making words. Write! Write like your life depends on it. Because it does! Writing for you should be like breathing. At least it should if you want to do anything with it. If you want to make a living in this business you should not just want to write, you should HAVE to write. Write because if you don’t you will go crazy. Write because if you don’t it’s like not being able to sit down after a long day of labor intensive work. Write because it is the center of who you are.

Do not listen to anything other than what your own heart tells you. Write everyday and put it out into the world.

I keep chopping wood. Get my books click the link

Get The Tales from the Canyons of the Damned series!




New release Ebook by Ernie Howard. On Holiday with an S.O.B. Originally published in Tales from the Canyons of the Damned #9

“To hell with oneness. To hell with meditation. To hell with this S.O.B.,” – Eric

Everyone has been on a holiday with one. They are the ones that can’t open their eyes and see they are in a beautiful place. They are the ones that can’t break down and buy the stupid souvenir. They say it’s a cheap knock off and they don’t want to waste their money. They are the ones that don’t realize when they are laying on their death-bed, that they’re going to wish that they had spent that money, and had a good time with the ones they loved. These are the people who you try to stay away from. So I decided to write about a fictional one. I hope you enjoy the story that was originally published in Tales from the Canyons of the Damned #9

Get On Holiday with an S.O.B. Here >>>> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MR3OWHD


RED HAT, Flash Fiction Story

Flash Fiction Story, “RED HAT” by Ernie Howard


Sherri glanced at the bumper sticker and had to laugh. Yes, a giant meteor might be better in this current political climate. It would definitely be better than the two bozos that had been chosen from them… Sherri contemplated a giant rock hitting the earth as she stood outside of the school that had been assigned to her to cast her vote.

She didn’t notice the man until she felt a hand on her ass. She spun around and stood staring at a man wearing one of those stupid red hats, and sporting an even dumber grin.

“What the hell?” Sherri said. She couldn’t believe what just happened.

“Get used to it sweetie. Once he’s in office things are going to go back to the way they were. The good days, when women knew what they were for.”

Sherri couldn’t stop herself. Her hand felt like it had a mind of its own. It made a loud smack as it connected with the ass grabbers face. The ass grabber took a step back. The dumb smile was wiped clean off of his face, and his dumb red hat sat askew on his balding head.

The man rubbed his jaw, slowly his expression contorting in rage. “You damn feminists. Voting with your damn vaginas!”

Sherri was the one to be surprised now. She wanted to tell the man that she was actually voting for what she assumed was the ass grabbers candidate, but she didn’t have a chance. The ass grabber reached out and grabbed Sherri by the neck. Sherri looked around for help, but only saw open mouths, and surprised faces. She grabbed at the man’s hands. Scratching and prying at his fingers that were choking the life out of her. She would have died by the ass grabbers hands, if it hadn’t been for the meteor.


“What we know about the people who were here before the meteor is very limited. But from what we have gathered from what little artifacts we have, is they lived in harmony with one another.”

The professor looked out into the crowd of students.

“Please show slide 426.” The professor pointed to the large picture on the screen. “As you can see in this slide. The people of the past lived very close to one another. These flat rock formations we believe were the foundations of their homes. All of them very close together, making us believe that their communities were close nit. Almost like families.” The professor smiled out at the audience.

“Next slide please.” The professor looked up at the screen, and back at the audience. His smile had gotten bigger. “This one is my favorite. It pretty much solidifies my previous statement. In this slide you can see some of the only human remains we have of the people before the meteor. These two here died looking into each other’s eyes. The one wearing the red head adornment, that what we believe was a ceremonial headdress, is touching the woman’s neck lovingly, as she holds his hands. Two of the lucky ones. They died together. Next slide please.