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I’ve been a bit radio-silent for a while, and for that I apologize. Just like I do every time I go radio silent, I suppose. This writing thing, I’m telling you people. It is not for the weak of heart or the lazy. It just isn’t. Between some tight writing deadlines, some pretty rigid (but
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Some people love chewing gum. Some people also love intercourse with farm animals. The message here is that there’s no figuring some people. My dad loved chewing gum. I think it was an oral fixation…something he could do instead of smoking. He was a Double-Bubble man through and through. He’d buy it by the box
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Can it be less than a year since I talked about faith/religion/and spirituality? What the hell kind of writing blog is this anyway? Mine. And I have something to get off my chest. Some of you might remember my earlier post on faith, Let’s Talk About Sects, Baby. If not, I’ve provided the link. It’s
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I don’t often review comic books. They go by so quickly, that often I only feel the need to comment on something large in the comic or in an over-all arc. So what is about Green Arrow #7 from DC Comics that has me rushing to the interwebs to get all lippy? I’m a Green
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On my third listen through What Comes After, the 11th album by The Honeydogs–Minneapolis’ other favorite sons (The Replacements and Prince being the others), I couldn’t help shake the feeling that Adam Levy and The Honeydogs have no interest in making popular music. The pieces are all there. Alert ears can pick up a wide
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I had a less than restful night last night. Part of this was due to not one, but two separate and very different dreams about getting lost in familiar territory. I don’t hold to the prophetic dream school–at least not as far as my own dreams are concerned. I see dreams as the subconscious sweeping
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The wisdom goes, you can’t edit what you haven’t written. I know that as well as anybody. After all–I went a long time thinking I couldn’t write novels because I couldn’t stay focused for that long. Part of becoming serious about my writing was finishing pieces. Not just novels, not just first drafts of stories,
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I’ve always had a bit of a love for the underdog. Maybe it’s because I always felt like a bit of an underdog myself. The guys at the top always had this sense of privilege that rubbed me the wrong way. So my heroes became the rebels, long before Star Wars made it cool. I’m talking old-school–Robin
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I’ve talked about death a few times in these pages. I’d like to say it’s an occupational hazard. I mean, I do write horror (among other things), so it’s going to come up. But more often than not, my posts about death are about real people, and how those deaths effect me and our culture
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I’m feeling all writerly today, possibly due to a few day stretch where I was unable to get any writing or editing done. (As a related aside, drivers, pay attention when you’re on the road. A car is just a slow-moving half-ton bullet. Corollary: my daughter is doing fine after getting flipped up onto the
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Tales from the Ragged Edge 