After almost two years of financial woe, illness, natural disasters, layout snafus, lost files, perfectionist editing, emotional turmoil, and overwhelming workload, the hardcover edition of Psychopomp has finally arrived. Hooray! Thus far I haven’t noticed a single copy with a page printed backwards, any strangely embossed spines, or any hidden pan-flute piping gnomes asking to …
If you are interested in ordering and you live outside of the USA! USA!, you can still click the button below. The only difference is, your shipping charge will be $11. I can ship anywhere in the world for this dollar amount. Don’t be skittish about ordering. It’ll meet your mitts eventually with a proper …
This blog has been a quiet place. Novel completion is quite an ordeal. That should be belt categories awarded with each stage of progression, kinda like Karate. My boxes of completely pretty and complete novels have been temporarily delayed on account of Hurricane Sandy. Just when I’d resigned myself to a fate of them having …
Psychopomp Volume One: Cracked Plate Now Available Read More »
Hive. New. Over. There. Hive
The one guarantee of me post-apocalypse is that my logic-brain will abort, leaving behind a slope shouldered droop-mouthed mumble to paw through clouds of I-told-you-so. A full 90-degree antenna adjustment will be required to pick up my frequency, the same oh shit sputtered at the start of our universe. My in-the-now mind is a teaming …
For the past several years I’ve written down my dreams, some of which are conversations that carry on for hours. In the first few minutes following waking I try my best to transcribe these ramblings, but they’re never coherent and weren’t meant to be. This collection of riddles and numbers came from a dialogue with …
Today was chased up the hill by a rooftop windfarm. Thar. She blows. No one was meant for this. In the tumbled-down now there’s too much material, culled from pretty boys that don’t notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I’m certain there’s at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all …
Sitting here exposed, naked, vulnerable with my face hanging out in the aftermath of a Clockwork Orange exam with all the prying and haunting images and none of the eye drops – for the sake of contacts. For more than ten years vision has been an obstacle course of dirty lenses and plastic frames. Open …
There’s too many people trapped in this box together and I’ve got blood all over my keyboard. The outcome of an accident involving my pinkie, a screen, a window slam, and me feeling absolutely nothing. It was only after several seconds of typing that I found the red splotches peculiar. Never being one for cleaning …