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You can’t sue! You’re not even real!
I love it when I dream about my characters, really I do. I’ve gotten loads of fresh ideas that way, insight into their thought processes, plots for short stories, and better descriptions. I like being...
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Me and In the Shadow of the Mountains
Time for another dorky, self-congratulatory photopalooza. Obviously, I love ebooks, but paperbacks just smell better. I like the heft to them. Anyway, it’s totally tradition, now. So, once again, I...
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New Year, New Stuff, New Lost Knowledge Site
Yeah, yeah, it’s not a new year just yet. I know this. I also know that if I wait until New Year’s and turn this stuff into a resolution, it’ll never get done, so I got some of it done early. Firstly,...
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So, what about pen names?
I’ve recently run up against quite a lot of articles and persons who seem dead-set on authors finding a genre they’re good at and then sticking to it. As far as I can tell, this is partly because it’s...
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Proof: A Short Tale of the Undead
Just a wee little thing, available exclusively for Kindle,(Now a functional link) for the time being. It’s not actually a part of my Lost Knowledge series, but does take place in the same ‘verse. The...
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Fantasy is not serious literature.
Apparently. The conversation went something like this: “Oh, you’re a writer? What do you write?” “Lots of stuff. I’ve been writing poetry for a while, and I’ve recently published two volumes of a...
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Next Big Thing Blog Hop
It seems I’ve been tagged again! My dear Peter Dawes has invited me to participate in this fun bit of self-promotion for writers. Dawes’ own work in progress, a detour off his Vampire Flynn series...
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Lenten Commitments
WARNING: RELIGION STUFF (if you couldn’t tell from the title…) I don’t do very well with New Year’s resolutions, but I’m pretty decent about keeping my Lenten commitments. It seems to be easier to keep...
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The Sins of the Protagonist
Sketchy thing by MR Graham, competent writer and mediocre artist I did something bad when I created Sandie, one of the main protagonists of The Siren. Something truly terrible. I sat down and wrote. I...
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Don’t tell stories!
I was at Chili’s the other night, having a couple of well-deserved drinks with a friend, when I observed something that wriggled its way into my brain and stuck there. It didn’t even really register...
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Postponing publication
I’m shoving The Medium back, and I’m not sure by how much. My early, extremely optimistic estimate was that I would have it out by 31 October, but I’m now thinking December. It just isn’t ready, and it...
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So, tell me how this sounds…
There is a mystery in Pleasantville! Jason Morgan, the milkman, has disappeared and left all the milk on the side of the road. Why would Jason leave in such a hurry? Ten-year-olds Matthew Baker and...
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The Milk Wagon Mystery – a short for children
Cross-posted to Always 1895 Greetings, readers. That little short story I mentioned previously is now out in digital format. It’s a light little puzzle written by myself and my grandmother, based on...
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Undignified squealing, and failure to Tumblr
First, undignified squealing. I finally have fantastically amazing character art for Sebastian’s page on Books of Lost Knowledge. The art: Click the image to visit the character page. Click this link...
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Girl of Flesh – a poem
I am not so human as you think, a girl of flesh with blood to bleed. Credit me with greater subtlety; can flesh approach the winter and the night? touch the stars and breathe their misty chill? stand...
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Mocking Sky – a poem
The Texas winter mocks with dust instead of snow and bare mesquite to testify with thorns against a shred of weakness. The Texas winter gusts fiercely from the south - grit on lips, in eyes, on tongues...
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Insert Title_1 – a poem
We, the petty, we, the bourgeois, poring over mirrors of reflected, collected verse, only we could drown in the shallow pools of our own desires. Self-worth and efficacy distort, distend, dilate. Our...
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A small explanation.
Why the sudden poetry blast? Simply put: because it’s there. I’ve lost my blogging motivation. I have absolutely no ideas for posts, and no idea what to do to get back in the swing. What I do have,...
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The Sisters – a poem
i Two sisters sat on the edge of a cliff – and one was old, and one was young and their mother was not yet born. They watched the sea below their feet. The waves chewed at the rocks as they had built...
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