Thursday, February 26, 2009

Natalie Portman's butt

Why hello there, aren't you cute? You got a nice little thing going on there, don't ya? Yes, you do...

Its nice to see you by the way, sweet cheeks.

(I'd mention the weird discoloration on her bicep, but I can't take my eyes off her ass... seriously though... is that a bruise?)

Anyway, tomorrow I'm taking PTO (thats Paid Time Off for all you non-corporate wage slaves) Why, you ask? Because they let me. Also, Little Ms. Supercute Girlfriend and I are going to spackle and sand and tape the main bedroom in preparation of painting it finally, so this blog is going to have to last all of you for the next few days.

So... mysterious and possibly non-existant readers? ... Natalie Portman's butt. Natalie Portman's Butt? ... mysterious and possibly non-existant readers.

I hope you both love each other, the way I love both of you.

See you Monday!

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Name Game

One of the surprising little extra perks to this new job of mine is a constant stream of fresh names. New names, odd names, common names, crazy names. There are hundreds, thousands and I come across them everyday. I collect them, in fact. Like little bits of gold sparkling in the sandy creek bed, I sift these future characters from the detritus and plant them safely in my word document of names, where hopefully, one day, I will reach in and pluck them forth, a vessel, ready to be filled with a new character.

Fode Bangoura

I imagine its pronounced like: Fo-day Ban-GORE-a

I think he’s a warrior of some indigenous grassland tribe on some strange fantasy world. I see he and his brothers racing through the seas of tall waving grass, their dark skin slick with sweat, bone spears clasped in their hands, and their long dreads rattling with the clay beads woven there, but Fode… Fode looks toward the horizon, hungry to learn of whatever lies beyond.

I love lists of names. When a good one jumps out at you, suddenly its like you can see whole worlds through this person’s eyes. Sometimes, looking at a name, the possibilities seem endless and yet so easily clear.

Yash Scarlett

I think Yash is a second story thief in some dirty and crowded, dystopian steam-punk world. I bet she wears a long trailing scarf knotted over her nose and mouth, running the rooftops, brash and arrogant and laughing as she dances mere steps ahead of the city’s clockwork thief-catchers, but will her arrogance be her undoing?

Normally I don’t approach stories character first, usually the characters kind of form up out of the bubbling, swampy murk that I’m building the tale above on an as needed basis. Sometimes they show up out of nowhere, half formed and intended for a specific purpose, so I have to walk them around a bit before they’re completely whole.

Noemy Elieth Sandoval

What an insanely interesting name. Noemy. I wonder where that comes from… Who is this person? She’s a girl, I think. I see hunched shoulders, little round glasses and darting eyes. I smell caution and a life time of prayed for invisibility, but there’s talent there… more than she knows. I like this name, it’s a good reluctant hero name.

Maybe its something within the name, the sound of it, that determines their personality for me, an accidentally descriptive feature. That, of course, just makes me wonder. Did that same feature determine the personality of the true owner in the same way?

Wilda Hatchett

Wilda is a tough old broad. She’s severe with big hands and a wide face. She’s a beer drinker. She likes flannel and she certainly, absolutely is not interested in hearing our crap. But more so, she’s loyal, loyal to the end. If she makes a promise, she sticks with it. She’s a care-taker, a sentry and a keeper-of-secrets. She will hold the line to the end and woe to any who try to pass her.

At this point, my list is long and still growing, but I can’t help it. I see a list of names and I automatically start harvesting. I love to look at them and imagine the infinite possibilities.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

A little bit about me (Part 2: Book 2)

So, as of last night, I am now over a third of the way done with the third/final draft copy edits on Gunslingers of the Apocalypse, with much thanks due to my bad ass, twin star Copy Editor Sukiyaki Death Squad Girls. They are dangerous and hard working and willing to put forth a phenomenal effort for very little (read: probably zero) money.


Such a herculean effort for such a low, low price does come some what slowly. Apparently they both have lives, so they can not dedicate every waking hour to my book. This is understandable, I guess, so in spite of, or perhaps due to, my resultant nervous anticipation of finishing, I have started the second book in the interim.

I’m calling it: Bastard out of Minnesota.

Now, the reasons for this new effort are three-fold.

1. Nervous energy meets a general enjoyment of writing plus a desire to continue the story. …Well… that pretty much summed up that whole reason in a sentence… Moving on.

2. Apparently the first question asked, once the ink is dry on the contract and the book is on the way to the press, is: “What’s next?” If and when that ever happens to me, I want to be able to say: “I have a rough first draft of Book Two…”

3. Which brings us here. Apparently, They say that the key to getting published in Genre fiction these days is franchises, multiple books with recurring characters, so “Black Magic” Jack El-Hai’s adventures are set up to spread out over four books. The plan is that each title will be able to be read and appreciated on its own, but when linked together they will provide a more full experience, a greater character arc and story.

So tonight, once I am freed from the constraining walls of my day-prison, I will return to my writing with a renewed focus, a pledge to write every night, for a little while, at least, and try to build something presentable… hopefully. So far, I have around… somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-30 pages. They’re rough, out of order, but hot and I can see the shape they’re beginning to burn on the page. I’ve been stumbling across random bits and pieces during my day, too, while other parts of the story have been forming in my dreams and whispering answers, so tonight I’m excited to set my fingers to my keyboard again, I going to try and pound this unsightly hunk of beginning scribbles into something sharp and cutting.

Wish me luck.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Tonight is my writing group

We’re called (temporarily, at least, or perhaps possibly permanently): These Precedes Knees. We are a group that meets twice monthly, usually the first and third Mondays. Our current roster has 5 active members, interesting, talented and multi-faceted writers culled from the various classes offered at the Loft. And while we could all be categorized generally as genre writers, each of us are writing different types of tales, ones of various length, structure and intended audiences and we have set a rotating schedule for submitting our work, so that each of us can get critiqued in turn.

All in all, it’s a pretty normal set up, one that is no doubt replicated all over, except for one important difference, at least in my experience.

Our main goal is one of mutual support, honest critique, and, if necessary, a general shepherding of each other’s work in progress (WIP) into publication. Now true, this is probably every neophyte writer’s goal, but its important to us that each member of our group is dedicated and working specifically toward that end. We’re not looking for fakers. None of us are half-assing it, nor are we interested in working with those who are. None of us are of that particular kind of halfhearted, fair weather wannabe writer, the ones that aimlessly write a bit on occasion, a few pages here, a few pages there, skipping blithely from idea to idea or maybe lingering just long enough to watch it all dry up and blow away after the first hundred pages. No. None of us are treading water, endlessly editing the same pages ad nauseam, for now and forever, tweaking their meager writing sample over and over until it’s a muddled, stumbling, unreadable mess. Nuh-uh. None of us will ever say: “Oh, I just have so many ideas… I just need to get them all down… I have it all written out in my head.” Nope. We’ve made a commitment. We’re looking to each other, not just for insightful response on our on work, but encouragement, we’re looking for reminders, we’re looking for work, continual, regular work. We’re looking for good, forward progress not just from ourselves but from each other.

We’re don’t want to talk about being writers.

We want to be writers.

And that’s refreshing, because really (as I’m sure you all know) one of the worst things about the various writing classes and on-line writer havens and blah-blah-fucking-blah-blah out there are the people who talk about writing non-stop, all day, every day, constantly, always with the opinion and the answer and the recitation of “the rules” and yet… they never write a fucking word. Never. Nothing, and yet, God damn, but you never seem stop hearing about their WIP.

I can’t stand those people.

These are the people who never submit, but always critique. AND should a passel of monkeys actually happen to suddenly fly out of my butt and they do put something up for others to read, they end up taking (the usually much needed) criticism as some kind of personal attack. The worst of them even retreat behind the shield of: “what do you know about writing, you’ve never been published!” True, I guess, but I’ve also never shit in my front yard, and yet somehow I’m still able to tell dog shit at a glance…talk, talk, talk, that’s all they do, with their half-baked ideas that are missing an ending and any semblance of original characters… You know who these people are? They are worst of the worst… they are the self publishers… they are the people who frequent the Vanity Presses.


This is why I stay away from the various internet writer’s haven. I mean, 1. I don’t understand how they work in the first place or why you’d want to put up stuff that you intend to get paid for, for free, for all to see or steal on the internet and 2. These weird little holes is where the worst of these weird-os lurk. This is where they find other like minded little troglodytes and hunched over and bitter malcontents from all over the planet and together they huddle in the dark, squat down and breed and rub each other off, once again, never actually doing any writing, but always discussing it and always available to misconstrue the work of others and inform any and all on how they are violating the “sacred rules of getting published.”

Its always so odd how these people can tell you in exact detail the format for a query letter and what kinds of markets exist and what book lengths are acceptable and what to never, ever, ever do and yet, are still unpublished.

Its really funny, because every actual author I’ve ever spoken to always acknowledges these rules but then immediately admit that they themselves broke, bent or completely ignored several, if not, all of them.

Its especially funny, because at this point, I’ve realized that while it’s always interesting to talk to authors about how they went about getting published, none of it is actually very helpful to me specifically, because in every single case, it all happened for those authors in different ways. There’s no rhyme or reason, its just right place, right time, right person and there are no rules consistently adhered to, with the possible exception of following the various guidelines that agents and publishing houses ask for and, of course, they had all actually written something in the first place.

And yet, go to any writer’s website forum and you’ll find gaggles of these poor, ugly fuckers with their thousands and thousands of logged daily posts, pontificating endlessly… all… day… long on their writing habits and idea generation, lamenting the evils of perpetual writer’s block and the bedeviling necessity of the daily schedules that precludes them from ever actually having to set pen to paper, all the while crying about the unfairly harsh reality of publishing today and the myriad of rejections they’ve received and spitting venom toward the poor, unlucky bastards with less total posts who make the mistake of not immediately lauding these freaks as venerated geniuses.

Why don’t these assholes just log off and fucking write?



What makes These Precedes Knees so nice as a group is that no one there is interested in excuses. A writer writes, if you’re not writing, then you’re not a writer and you are wasting everyone’s time. Our goal is to get published. Our goal is to get better. And no one in the group is going to take it easy on you, because what help would that be? These people are all hard, keen-eyed, but insightful, they pay attention to detail and word choice while keeping an eye on the larger story. They catch you, they don’t let you cheat, and you can see the improvement reflected in your work.

I find it amazing help and creatively invigorating.

So I just want to say thanks to the group for policing me and asking the tough questions and keeping me sharp. I want to say thank you for helping to make me better.

I shall endeavor to do the same for you.

See you tonight.

Friday, February 20, 2009

My girlfriend won't let me buy any more books...

Just because I have a few stacked up on the bedside table waiting to be read. I mean, I'll get to them eventually, so why can't I just keep buying the books that catch my eye? Its not like I'm an addict of something... Look, here is the list:


Spook Country by William Gibson
(a little slow and unexciting, but I'll finish it eventually. I have to admit though, I long for the days of Gibson's much more cyber-punky stuff.)

Chung Kuo - The Middle Kingdom by David Wingrove
(I've had this forever and have always meant to start it. It threw me as a 12 year old, but I've always loved the idea of a Chinese dominated world that has become one big, multi-leveled city and the revolution forming in its deep bowels...)

Anthem by Neal Stephenson
(I really enjoy his stuff, especially Snow Crash, although most of it can be a little slow at times. If you're patient though, you're usually rewarded... except for Diamond Age, that was terrible.)

Blindness by Jose Saramago
(The girlfriend's Mother won this. She wanted the Kite Runner and was really pissed about it. I think she viewed it as a slight. So, I got the book. Yay me!)

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
(This was recommended to me. I don't know why, but I guess we'll find out once I read it.)

Liberation: Being the Adventures of the Slick Six After the Collapse of the United States of America by Brian Francis Slattery
(yeah... this one is purported to be a surrealists' sci-fi yarn... possibly a little over-pretentious...)

Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy
(I am such a fan and the book is beautiful, but dense. It is an effort to read, worth it, but still... an effort.)

Slash by Slash
(Fuck yeah, man.)

Ask a Ninja Presents The Ninja Handbook: This Book Looks Forward to Killing You Soon by Douglas Sarine and Kent Nichols
(A book like this could save your life someday... You never know... you never know...)

The Whale Road by Robert Low
(recommended by a friend, its about Vikings and pillaging and plundering. The part that really interested me though, is that the Author apparently is a regular Live Action Role Player... or LARPer, in geek speak... as a Viking. Meaning, for the un-geekly, he dresses up as a Viking and hits other dressed up people with a fake axe and I love crazy weird-os like that, so I'll check his book out...)

Wastelands (a collection of short stories about the Apocalypse) edited by John Joseph Adams
(kind of good, kind of lame, you know how collections are...)

The Living Dead (a collection of short stories about Zombies) edited by John Joseph Adams
(second verse, same as the first...)

And their memory was a bitter tree: Queen of the Black Coast and Others by Robert E. Howard
(Conan! What is best in life? Crush your enemies, see them driven before you and to hear the lamentations of the their women!)

Two-Lane Blacktop (the Script) by Will Corry and Rudolph Wurlitzer
(This movie fascinates me an I couldn't really explain why.)

Earth X by Alex Ross, Jim Krueger and John Paul Leon
(Hmmm... I like parts, I really don't like others. A "possible future" Marvel tale, quite possibly "all show, no go.")

Criminal Vol. 1: Coward by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips
(I love Brubaker's stuff, especially Incognito, but this one... meh... it doesn't grab me and its crime fiction about con men and a big heist, so...)

The Ultimates, Vol. 1 (Hardcover) by Mark Millar and Bryan Hitch
(oh, so good. A great re-imagining of established Marvel characters in about as real a real-world situation as you can get.)

ON THE FLOOR (rejected)

Butcher Bird by Richard Kadrey
(ugh... completely, absolutely terrible... ham-fisted, false, lame, poorly written... totally not worth your time. The only good thing about this book is that if someone this terrible can get published... ANYONE can.)

Green Lantern: The Sinestro Corps War, Vol. 1 by Geoff Johns, Dave Gibbons, and Ethan Van Sciver
(meh... the geeks are flipping out for Green Lantern's current stuff right now, but I just can't do it. I'm just not interested, mostly because A. I'm a Marvel head, not DC and B. I'm just not that into Space Operas anymore.)

So, now you see, right? ...Her moratorium on new books is completely unreasonable.


I don't have a problem. I can quit whenever I want to.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Stupid People (most likely Part One of many)

Right now, I am talking to one of the biggest idiots on the planet.

How hard is it to open a single god damn internet window? Just open it, you fucking moron.

And I knew it to, just from the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was vacant eyed and stupid AND she's going for a Masters in Pyschology! Who the hell are these people that have zero experience with computers and yet think they need a Masters degree from an On-line University!?! Why? I mean, what job have you been working for the past 20 years that you believe that you need a masters degree and yet you treat a computer like a fucking caveman faced with fire?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

A little bit about me (Part 1: Book 1)

So, in my last post, I mentioned that I had just recently finished (or pretty much finished) my first novel. Its a fairly large part of my life at the moment, and hopefully my future as well, so I thought for this post that that is what I would talk about for abit.

So, have a seat, quiet down... settle... settle...


My book is called: Gunslingers of the Apocalypse. Its 180,000 words long, which is insane, I know, but I figure that I'll cut if I must and until then, screw it. Besides, I wouldn't know where to begin and so far none of my couple dozen or so readers have been able to help me out either and they have no reason not to. Basically, I figure that I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. It took me a year to hammer out the first draft and a year-ish plus to pump out the 2nd and 3rd and right now, today, I am so close to sending out my packets to begin to solicit agents for representation that I am practically salivating. Rejections or not, I am totally ready to get started. Also, if I had my druthers, the cover would be along the lines of a slightly more apocalyptic and zombified homage to this poster:

So yeah... lets just get that out of the way from the start... yes, my book is about zombies, or more appropriately, its about the people who have survived the zombie apocalypse.

Meaning: My book is set in a world where the Dead have risen with an insatiable hunger for living flesh and crushed the whole of society before their rotten, nightmarish tread. In my book, its six months after the fact and the scattered clumps of survivors are now huddled down in their various camps and trying to eke out a new life amongst the ruins of the old world.

And we basically go from there...

In a sentence: Its Mad Mad meets Dawn of the Dead.

The order that those two references appear in that sentence are important to me. See, I'm not so big on the whole horror aspect, its just supposed to be an adventure book... with zombies. Because, for the most part, I'm more a fan of the survival, post apocalyptic aspect then the horrifying horror of the undead. So, survival first, zombies second. I think the thing that would bother me the most, should I ever get published, would be if my book were to be shelved in horror. I don't want to be pidgeon holed like that, plus, I'm not a big fan of that "scene".

Its my intention that the zombies are not used as the main threat or purpose of the book. I mean, yes, they ARE a threat, they do want to eat the main characters after all, but more so, the zombies are there as an ever-present and mobile obstacle. I want them to determine situations, I want them to force characters that don't really get along into close quarters with one another with few options available, if any, and then I want the zombies' presence to act as a constant pressure that frays nerves and ups the tension until it finally all explodes. Plus, a zombie apocalypse forces folks to become gunhands and bandits and brigands and tiny emporers with their ad hoc armies in that fanciful, not really reality based kind of way where they all drive armored cars and were leather outfits and all that other Mad Max-y kind of stuff that the reality of a nuclear apocalypse just doesn't really allow for any more these days... thanks alot Cold War...

Anyway, thats not to say that there aren't scary/gross parts, of course there are, its just that I'm not the kind of guy who creams his pants over gore or "horror" in general, nor do I expect a slow, singly focused and unthinking antagonist to be able to maintain itself as a threat throughout the whole of a story . Especially when its a threat that really is, argueablly, a pretty easy one to stay ahead off, at least once your characters learn a few rules and gather a few supplies, that is.

My story follows the adventures of a man named "Black Magic" Jack El-Hai. Its all told from his point of view in a noirish, first person, post-apocalyptic neo-western kind of way. The idea for the book stemmed from a few places: a writing excercise in a class, a really, really sad bus ride one night mid winter a few years ago, plus the classic kind of ways that all noir P.I. novels seem to open up with and the fact that Land of the Dead made absolutely no sense, as far as world building goes, and really kind of sucked and that upset me... so I mixed that all together and...


Gunslingers of the Apocalypse
a "Black Magic" Jack El-Hai adventure

So... after the Collapse of the world, Jack managed to find refuge in a small, fenced off little town tucked away in the far corner of southwestern Minnesota. Now, He's one of the crazy few whose job is to venture out and grab much needed supplies from the ruins of the surrounding cites and towns, all the while dodging the ravenous dead and the equally vicious rival scavengers as well. Jack and his disparate and rowdy team of scavengers hunt down everything from gas, to clothes, to ammo, to food, anything, all the way down to books and booze and even yarn, all for their town's consumption. Now that the world has ended and the survivors have realized that they are still amongst the living, life has to go on, so scavenging is not just about the big nessecary-for-survival kind of things, its also about the little things, the tiny comforts, the things that let people feel alive again.

And thats what Jack does, out beyond the protection of the fence, he's a ruin runner, a fence hopper, a scavenger by trade and a gunslinger by nessecity. He is a killer of men and zombies. The one bright spot in his life is his girlfriend, his other half, his constant companion and fellow team member, Noelle Easter. She's a slim, little punk rock smart ass and togeather, the two of them are walking trouble, a restless pair of ne'er-do-wells, a post apocalyptic Bonnie and Clyde. They're fuck offs, but they are very good at what they do.

Lately, though... lately things have been off.

Noelle has been pushing Jack to re-examine their lives and purpose, she's started to question their daily grind. Plus, other scavenger teams have been dying out there in the Wild beyond the Fence, and not by the Dead either, they've been ambushed, gunned down and because of this, the truce between the rival camps and their little town is beginning to fray. Jack suspects that a new mysterious group is behind all the recent unrest, that someone out there is slowly and surely minipulating the local camps towards war. Worse yet, there may even be a few of their spies already in place behind the town's walls, in fact, there may already be a conquering army on the way... And when things finally begin to crash down around him, threatening his town, his life and his love, Jack quickly realizes that the true monsters are not the dead and rotting masses locked outside those walls, its the living breathing people locked within...

So, I'm probably going to talk about this thing alot, if you're planning on being a regular reader then you should be prepared for that. Like I said, its a big part of my life and I'm really proud of it. Here's why. See, I think I did good, you see, because I take these continuing ed classes, writing and blah-blah-blah and all that kind of stuff and for the most part, genre work (sci-fi/horror/fantasy/westerns) is pretty surprisingly under represented in the classes. Most of the time, on that first day of a new class, I usually find myself surrounded by the usual writing class suspects:

The middle aged, recently divorced ladies writing books about middle aged, recently divorced ladies going to Tuscany to re-discover themselves.

The gay guys writing about their mother, the pain of coming out and/or both.

The vegan hippy chicks, with their strangley silent tag-a-long boyfriends, writing very blatant lesbian erotica about teenage girls and usually containing the line: swaying to the music.

The old guy whose story is either indeciferable or kind of creepy.

The wordsmith.

The writing-for-therapy person (handle with care!)

And then they get to me.

"Whats your story about?"


And like wolves over a fresh carcess, they can't wait to savage me, they can not wait. You see, THEY are all artists, while I am merely writing "fiction" but said in a voice as if I had handed them a used kleenex. They have no reason or desire to be nice to me. Artistically speaking, in their eyes, I am the wounded and limping deer.

And yet... so far, out of all the classes I've handed this out in, out of the fairly good number of readers who have either read a good sized portion, a major portion, or all of it... Not a single negative review. Really. I've gotten good feedback, thats been very helpful, but as far as anyone hating it, destroying it? Hasn't happened. Almost every time, they all start with: I would never, ever buy a book like this, BUT... I really found myself enjoying yours..." And I've seen these people just tear other authors to pieces, often unfairly so, in my opinion, and yet some how me and my little (big) zombie tale has emerged pretty much unscathed.

And that gives me hope.

Wish me luck.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Thank God for Underwear!


I’ve finally decided to leave the old world behind me. For good and forever. Goodbye Myspace, goodbye Livejournal, Goodbye wherever else. Its time for me to move on, time to go forward, time to get a blogger…blogspot……whatever… I’m going to be rambling on here about my life, comics, movies, stupid people, basically nothing important while occasionally posting pictures of Scarlett Johansson, from now on.

I hope you enjoy.

Well, actually I don’t care one way or the other… why are you here, honestly? Who are you?

…Doesn’t matter.


Here’s a Scarlett Johansson pic (did I spell her last name right?)

Aaaaahh... That’s some nice stuff there. Relaxing. I read that she’s in talks to play the Black Widow in the next Iron Man movie.

Personally, I think this is a mistake. I mean, I like the girl, she’s a tolerable actress, she’s attractive and the thought of her in skin tight vinyl is… exciting, BUT imagining her trying to do some over the top, crappy, Boris and Natasha Russian accent is chilling. And frankly, stunt casting is a franchise death-knell. The first Iron Man was good, do we really think it would be better if it were to be more like the 90’s Batman franchise? God forbid… Not that the Iron Man movies require some fantastic thespian, but I think if the Box Office Returns from Dark Knight and Iron Man have taught us anything, its that a superhero movie can still be fun AND make money if you treat it with some dignity, and nothing kills dignity faster than a fantastic set of boobs and a ridiculously performed Russian Accent.

Actually, the accent is superfluous to the whole losing dignity equation, but either way, its a problem for another day…

Moving on! So, my goal is to blog everyday. You see, I have a job now. (gasp) Yes its true, I have a job, a five days a week, paid holiday having, cubicle ass sitting, Office Space quoting, real-life, honest to goodness job. I have a 401k and the whole fuckin’ 9 yards. I wear sweaters now with alarming regularity. (Well, really its just the one sweater washed regularly) I have work shoes. Its crazy, its like being an adult all the time. I’ve considered going commando as my own secret little rebellion against the Corporate Overlords, just letting my wang hang free, you know, a wiggle and a wobble and a flop-flop-flop? But… there’s chafing to consider, plus, sweaty balls and if you’ve ever caught your dick in your zipper, (which I’m sure all you female readers probably have not.) then you’ll agree with me when I say: “Thank God for underwear: protector, separator, preventer of fart stains.” Long story short (too late) I have a lot of time on my hands during the day now. However, I don’t want to tip anyone off to this fact and, as a result, possibly receive more work from my Overlords, so I TRY not to be on the Internet ALL day long… so… I blog.

Plus, I have recently finished my first novel, or at least I’m almost done with the final edits that I have been receiving in bits and pieces from my twin star Copy Editor Sukiyaki Death Squad Girls, and in the meantime, I have started on book number two. So I’ve got stuff ahead of me that should provide plenty of fodder to talk about: the books, the submission and (hopefully) publication process, maybe some musing on story direction and the writing process, cover design, my big fat movie check, which kind of coke goes best with which kind of hooker, how to best hide a dead body, blah, blah, blibbety-quack-quack, blah… not too mention the fact that the Internet is LITERALLY chock full of pictures of Scarlett Johansson. CHOCK full.


And no, before you get all upset, it will not be all Scarlett, all the time… rest assured, there will also be pictures of Megan Fox...

and an oldie but goodie: Winona Ryder, old reliable.

So this is me and this my blog, y’all know me, welcome friends, the rest of you: Fuck off.