Category Archives: Writing

August 5, 2026 · 5:15 am

Stupid counterfactuals, sanewashing and other media-related links

Back in 2007, as Florida Governor Jeb Bush was stepping down and looking at the White House (he tried in 2016 and face-planted), the AP ran a story discussing how different it might be if he’d been president rather than his brother, George W. Jeb was the smart one; maybe he’d have won the war in Iraq (IIRC, there was no suggestion he wouldn’t have fought it), maybe the economy would be booming, etc. Well, maybe; then again, maybe not. This was so speculative I have no idea why it was worth publishing (did Jeb’s press team hand some money under the table?).

Last year Ed Kilgore offered a similar fantasy: wouldn’t we better off if the Toddler won in 2020? He wouldn’t have four years of resentment over losing, wouldn’t have had four years to scheme and adopt Project 2025, Kamala Harris would be completely discredited as a candidate (why other than sexism this is a win — well, other than sexism, it isn’t), the Democrats could have united behind one candidate who could unite the party, VP Mike Pence would be easily beaten … As noted in the comments at the (non-direct) link, there’s no way to be sure things would work out this well. The Toddler might have run for a third term; he might have proven just as terrible; the Republican candidate might not be Pence. There’d be four more years of horrible policies, deeper entrenched — I don’t think things would be better for trans people, immigrants, etc. And, of course, none of this translates into any sort of insight about what the Democrats should have done or should do in the future; the only possible option is to fight hard every election.

Another bad media move is taking anti-vaxxers seriously. For example the writer shaking their head sympathetically (so to speak) when one interviewee says she suspects vaccines caused her kid’s autism and the public health authorities decided she didn’t know what she’s talking about. Well, she doesn’t. Vaccines do not cause autism and the Toddler administration is doing nothing to tackle the issues the writer says MAHA cares about (the cost of medical care, environmental pollutants). More critique here.

See also the perennial problem of sanewashing right-wing propaganda bullshit. Or consider that when NYT reports on the Toddler’s fake charges of vandalism against David Hearn — accused of destroying the reflecting pool that’s the current Toddler obsession — the focus is not on Hearn getting charged by the DOJ to satisfy their whiny boss but on the Toddler’s anger and the conflict in his cabinet. The abuse of power is the story hear; the Times would sooner focus on the cabinet soap opera.

Then there’s the Washington Post ….

Moving away from journalism … ‘“They can’t all be mega-hits” sounds like the most anodyne statement of fact you can imagine and fills some executives with puzzled rage.”

Videogame-based movies can be hugely successful … but will that apply to films based on Asteroids or Pong?

Is it time to bring back old-school professional critics?

Is Netflix releasing all the episodes of entire series in one lump a big mistake?

The Fast and Furious finale is way overdue. Part 2 of 2023’s Across the Spider-Verse hasn’t come out either. James Bond is in limbo. Camestros Felapton wonders what’s up with film franchises?

Ben Shapiro’s Daily Wire isn’t doing well either.

Broadway star power can make a show a hit, but when the star leaves, that can sink a show too.

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July 31, 2026 · 4:25 pm

Bring back my focus to me!

Another week where I had a hard time concentrating on anything. And without even the excuse of contractors working or multiple appointments. I keep trying to find my focus but somehow I just keep wandering through a maze of distraction (hence my choice of this Jack Kirby cover for an illustration. Steve Ditko inked).

Part of it is undoubtedly that TYG’s slammed schedule has kept me doing lots of extra dog care. That’s not a criticism — she’s the big breadwinner so if she needs me to watch the dogs so she can concentrate, that’s fair — but it does erode my sense of personal space over time and I know from experience that affects my concentration. Plus the cats have been downstairs a lot during the day this week. Even if they’re not asking for anything, I’m conscious of them and that adds to the distraction.

Is it anything beyond that? Maybe, but I don’t know what. Not exhaustion — the dogs woke me up a couple of times this week but I slept great the rest of the time.

The end result? No fiction this week, or this month. I hate that! I did get work done but it proceeded at a snail’s pace compared to what I’d have managed were I in the zone.

The biggest thing was that I answered all those questions McFarland sent me about my Watching Jekyll and Hyde manuscript. Now I just have to wait for them to send me the galleys for the final proofing.

I also edited my friend Kat Traylor’s story for Become the Sky, the follow-up anthology to The Ceaseless Way. “Surviving Dr. Bloodflask” is a really fun story about a supervillain’s son getting dragged back into his family’s schemes. Kat’s improved it considerably since we critiqued the first draft so all I had to do was copy editing.

I submitted an updated story on the Triangle area’s ongoing drought. Rain this month has eased the stress but not eliminated it. The story will be out next week.

Over at Atomic Junk Shop I looked at how Doctor Doom in 1971 starts showing hints of decency. Also how horror began spilling into romance, war books and superhero comics.

And that’s about it. I have no major commitments next week, though, so let’s hope I can return to productivity.

Ceaseless Way cover by GetCovers, based on design idea by Arden Brooks. Doom by Gene Colan. All rights to images remain with current holders.

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July 24, 2026 · 4:30 pm

Cats and cons, bathrooms and battle plans

A week ago, I drove to Greensboro for ConGregate 2026. Up until this year, the con’s been held in Winston-Salem, but they had issues with the hotel and had to relocate. This worked out well for me as Greensboro is only an hour away.

The worst thing about the hotel is that it’s on the airport, several miles from anywhere else to eat. Not for the first time, I relied on the breakfast buffet to feed me for the entire day. And the collapsible kettle TYG bought me took care of my tea needs. The best thing is that the author alley, where I set up my table above, runs right outside the meeting spaces so everyone has to pass us by.

Did that boost sales? Not massively. However attendance seemed smaller than ConGregate 2025 — I can’t swear to it — but I made roughly as much money. That’s cool. And all the panels and readings had audiences that outnnumbered the panelists. That doesn’t always happen.

The patterns in sales always fascinate me. No sales on Atoms for Peace or Sex for Dinner, Death for Breakfast (that’s usually a consistent seller), one or two of most of my other books, seven of Questionable Minds. Which as it’s the one I most want to sell right now, suited me fine. One seller bought purely because of the cover, which is cool (thanks Sam Collins!).

Finally home, where I cooked a Thank You meal for TYG for having to care for all the pets while I was gone. Happily we’ve introduced Plush Dudley to canned chicken and for the moment he’s willing to scarf down his drugs if they’re mashed up into it. Fingers crossed that lasts until after TYG does some traveling in a couple of weeks, leaving me alone.

As I’ve been saying lately, no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. Last week I took into account that we’d be having contractors trooping in and out to work on the master bathroom. This week we had that to deal with — finished today, at last! — plus we had to take Wisp in to have a couple of problem teeth removed.

This was a challenge. Catching and caging Wisp is always a challenge. Happily for once we got good news: when the dental vet took an X-ray look at the teeth, it doesn’t require removal. No surgery, check back in six months. We’re happy she doesn’t have to be cut on, particularly as removing bottom teeth can have bad effects on the jaw.

And on Wednesday, my physical therapist said my knee has improved enough I don’t have to book another appointment unless/until I need one. She did great, but I’m happy not to take the time. Especially as I screwed up the time and had to go, come home, go back, return.

Somewhat less happily, my glasses broke today — the right-hand screw holding the frame around that lens just snapped. I tried taping it up; didn’t work. Fortunately I have a backup pair and my eyesight hasn’t changed enough for them to be a problem. I will look for a repair place. Annoying but not catastrophiic.

Now, as to writing, my original battle plan had been to focus on Savage Adventures, like I did last week. It’s at the proofing stage and that adapts better than fiction to constant interruptions. Monday that went well. I rewrote some of the text, trimming quite a bit of it, and corrected some errors that had crept in. After Monday, though, things got nuts.

One thing I’ve started doing is taking little tasks and errands — submitting pet bills to the insurer, for instance — first thing in the morning. Gets them out of the way and I don’t have to worry about when to fit them in later in the day. However it’s very easy for them to expand and take up too much time. I’ll have to be careful going forward. This week, I was not.

Plus I had an unexpected experience with The Local Reporter. When I contact someone for an interview I don’t always get a prompt response, or any response (I suspect that’s partly because we’re not the paper of record for Chapel Hill/Carrboro the way the Destin Log was for Destin). I’m working on an article about the effect of the ongoing drought and this time everyone I contacted called me back. I spent much of Wednesday doing interviews.

Thursday I worked on proofing stories for Become the Sky, the sequel anthology to Ceaseless Way. As it’s a collaborative project we all have stories to proof. I have three: Maggie Maxwell’s “The Survivalist’s Guide to Faeryland,” Ada Milenkovic Brown’s “The Nixie of Alken Bog” and Kat Traylor’s “Surviving Dr. Bloodflask.” I got the first two finished Thursday.

So it’s actually a productive week, just not the stuff I planned to produce. Which isn’t the worst way for the battle plan to go off the rails.

Oh, and my editors at McFarland contacted me with some detailed editing questions about various passages in Watching Jekyll and Hyde. That’s pleasing — it shows they’re paying attention to the details. Not that I’d expect less, but it’s still good to see.

Over at Atomic Junk Shop I looked at Flash #209 as a harbinger of the Bronze Age. It had Cary Bates take over as Flash’s writer, a gig he’d hold all the way until the Crisis on Infinite Earths killed Barry off. It also showed that after a couple of years of avoiding super-villains, DC was bringing them back. I was delighted.

All rights to cover images remain with current holders. Southern Discomfort cover by Sam Collins, Ceaseless Way by GetCovers based on design by Arden Brooks, Flash cover by Dick Giordanoo.

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July 17, 2026 · 4:31 pm

My battle plan survived, sort of

As I’ve talked about before, one of the military rules of thumb is that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. I knew this week would demolish any regular plan, so I adjusted accordingly.

(Photos are all from our yard, like this morning’s post. Here we have Mr. Squirrel acrobatically chowing down on the suet we put out for the birds)

This week, we began a renovation project. The master bathroom bathtub has enough problems we decided it was worth fixing them now rather than waiting until they become serious major problems. If you’ve ever heard that major renovations are a massive pain, it’s true. Knowing that I decided to work on Savage Adventures because it’s nonfiction and editing the manuscript doesn’t take creative thought the way resuming work on Let No Man Put Asunder would.

It was as bad as I’d figured and then some. As TYG normally works her IT gig in the master bedroom, she relocated into the spare bedroom and moved her bathroom stuff into mine. I’d almost forgotten how many things she has on her bathroom counter so mine is quite cluttered now.

A much bigger issue is that with people coming in and out, we worried the cats would freak, particularly Snowdrop, and bolt out away from the strangers. If they were spending the day sleeping upstairs we could simply lock them in. The past couple of weeks they’ve been hanging out in the living room so I had to keep constant watch they weren’t sitting too close to the door. Fortunately neither of them tried to get out, though they clearly weren’t happy.

That, coupled with dealing with the contractor if they had questions or requests (TYG did some of that, but with Zoom meetings to attend she can’t do all of it), plus the jarring noises from upstairs left me somewhat frazzled. Because I concentrated on Savage Adventures I was at least somewhat productive. I went through the book and made sure all the Doc Savage novels were attributed correctly; while Lester Dent wrote most of them, Street and Smith assigned other writers to some, and Dent occasionally used ghostwriters. I edited the first three chapters as well. The rest of the time I did some blogging, paid bills, etc. Nothing super-demanding. If not a spectacular workweek, I don’t feel I fell down on the job either.

Over at Atomic Junk Shop I blogged about toxic masculinity, reposted some book reviews from this blog, and posted about Southern Discomfort coming out (same post as I put up here, more or less). And that’s about it.

The contractors will be back Monday-Wednesday next week. I’m slightly more ambitious about what I plan to do. Wish me luck living up to my plans.

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July 14, 2026 · 5:03 am

Media in the age of the Toddler

The news media’s relationship with power has always been complicated. That includes both political power and the power of money. As noted at the link, the Los Angeles Times was owned by Republican stalwarts for years; they simply didn’t report news that reflected well on Democrats. More recently we have billionaire Toddler-cultist David Ellison buying as much media as he can get his hands on. And in the case of CBS, having Bari Weiss reboot 60 Minutes so that it’s a right-wing propaganda organ (more on that here). She may get to do the same to CNN. And her former operation, the Free Press, was always about bullshit.

Or consider the New York Times headline from 2024 — 200,000 people hired but we’re concerned — vs a recent headline reporting growth of 57,000 jobs — whoa, economy is shiny! Paul Campos at Lawyers Guns and Money has repeatedly argued that the media’s sanewashing of the Toddler and his cabinet (e.g., here and here) is because he plunges them into an existential crisis — a skeptical/cynical “both sides are wrong and the truth lies in the middle” no longer works well when the president is utterly deranged. While the “both sides” approach really doesn’t work any more, I doubt that’s it. They know what they’re doing and they do it with calculation. Whether it’s pre-emptive compliance, fear of Toddler administration threats, a dream of winning conservative readers, a desire to show how unbiased they are or this is what their editors and publishers want, it’s a choice, though a bad one. Or maybe they’re still running on internal beliefs about the Democrats as the Mommy Party and the importance of listening to white anger. Or nervous about being subpoenaed if they hurt the Toddler’s fee-fees.

It’s not all politics, though. Jeff Bezos made it clear during 2024 that he wanted the Washington Post to swing more conservative. The idea there’s a vast, undeserved conservative audience was dubious from the start — if the WaPo wanted to crack that market it would take a lot of work. Instead we have dreadful attempts to pivot to video and mass firings of the paper’s sports reporters. That’s daft; sports coverage is meat and drink for any paper.

That astonishes me. I get that for Bezos, losing the paper would be small change and I doubt he feels the same kind of gut punch as losing money on AI. Still, he does like making money and its not hard. The Wall Street Journal proves a paper can be conservative and still deliver good reporting (it’s editorial page, by contrast, is virulently right wing). Nevertheless, he’s gutting it. There was a time a couple of decades earlier when billionaires investing in papers seemed like the best way to help journalism survive in the Internet age. Bezos bought the paper in 2013 and it kept doing good work; now we see what happens when a billionaire has a change of heart.

Or consider Disney yanking the 538 archives offline. Is any of the information going to be available anywhere or will it disappear?

I’d say small 501c(3) papers like The Local Reporter are the way to go but let’s face it, we rely on donations and those are often in short supply. Neighborhood newsletters help. As I’ve said before, this is something donors could spend money on more productively rather than looking for the liberal Joe Rogan.

This thread points out the Mellon Foundation is the only foundation providing major arts funding, albeit some people see that as sinister rather than a sad sign of lack of interest by other potential donors.

If it’s any comfort, Ben Shapiro’s Daily Wire is floundering too.

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July 11, 2026 · 4:39 am

Behold the book! Southern Discomfort lives!

Yep, no movie reviews today, either. That’s because after soooo fricking long, Southern Discomfort is finally available for sale. Print book here, ebook on various sites here. Amazon ebook here. I’ve added it to my list of self-published books from the Behold the Book imprint here.

Here’s the cover synopsis: “It’s May 1973 and Maria Esposito has spent three years as a wanted fugitive. Constantly on the run, she never lets anyone get close.
Now torrential floods have trapped her in Pharisee Georgia, in the middle of an FBI investigation. Maria needs to keep a low profile; too bad the murder victim’s widow insists she can help solve the case. The county sheriff makes it clear saying no is not an option.
The FBI soon becomes the least of Maria’s problems. There’s the hostile ravens. The homicidal horse. The living shadow warning her to leave town or die. Maria has no choice but to run, even though something monstrous is threatening Pharisee. Something only she can stop.
Maria tells herself she doesn’t give a damn. She can’t afford to give a damn.
She has a grim feeling she’s not going to listen …”

Here’s the cover, courtesy of the amazing Sam Collins.

It has been such a long road, it’s hard to believe it’s done. For anyone who’s curious, I’ve been looking back at the novel s creation and development in a series on this blog. Today, though, I thought I’d discuss something different: what are all those people/things doing on the cover of the book?

I feel pretty damn pleased with myself for this book.

The woman: Maria Esposito, Army nurse in ‘nam turned anti-war activist, now a federal fugitive. She doesn’t want to be the hero; she may not have a choice.

The cloaked figure: Gwalchmai, my antagonist. He’s on a 300-year-old mission of revenge that won’t stop until Olwen McAlister is dead. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone else but when push comes to shove, he will.

The cat: Gwalchmai gained powers from a ritual, the taghairm, that involves roasting live cats on a spit for four days straight; one cat dies, he roasts a new one. The cats of Pharisee can smell his crimes against their kin and they want revenge.

The freaky-looking hand: the hand of glory, a mystic talisman that puts people to sleep and unlocks doors. To make it you cut off the hand of a hanged man and cover it with corpse fat. Georgia’s not currently hanging anyone so Gwalchmai hanged someone himself.

The clouds and lightning: After 300 years, Aubric and Olwen McAlister were the secret monarchs of Pharisee County. They and the land were one. With Aubric already murdered, nature is running wild. The county is coping with a rainstorm like it’s never seen before.

The creepy house: there’s a couple of ’em.

I feel really pleased I wrote this. Hopefully lots of readers will be too.

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July 10, 2026 · 4:30 pm

So where did I misplace my mojo this week?

I’m honestly not sure, but whenever I sat down to work, my creative juices were not flowing.

Stuff which didn’t require creativity went fine. I finished the draft of Savage Adventures, which is not a small thing. One more draft should do it, a combined line edit with fact-checking (did I get the names of all the characters right, for instance). However I wanted to make progress on fiction as well and my mind just balked.

Short stories? No idea how to progress.

Rewrite of Let No Man Put Asunder? Ditto.

I did take the beginnings of two new untitled stories I worked on last week and share them with the writing group. The feedback satisfied me they’re worth working on and some of the suggestions were interesting (could they be part of the same novel? Probably not but if I could think of a way …). That was it, though.

I also didn’t do as well as usual with our dogs’ home PT care, or my own exercise regimen for that matter.

I did find that if I concentrate my various non-writing tasks — errands, bills, submissions to our pet insurance, Trupanion — in the first hour of work this gets them taken care of and lets me concentrate better the rest of the day. That helped with Savage Adventures at least.

Part of it may be that I’m still sleep-deprived — a couple of bad nights, no nights quite good enough to catch up. Plush Dudley being extremely restless is a big part of it. Sometimes I think he just likes to sleep on my side of the bed and he knows if he makes enough trouble, I’ll have to move and try to sleep in the spare bedroom. Wicked boy.

He’s so stinking cute, though.

Part of the problem may be that I haven’t had much break from our various pets the past month and a half, except when I’m out running errands. Over time it erodes my personal space and that does get draining.

I did get to attend my Genre Book Club, as I discussed over at Atomic Junk Shop. That was fun. And I had lunch with one of my writing friends, the first time I’ve managed that in a while.

Tune in next week for (hopefully) a better result! Cover by James Bama, all rights to image remain with current holder.

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July 7, 2026 · 5:03 am

Southern Discomfort: the widow and a county in Georgia

This Saturday, Southern Discomfort goes live, though the Kindle version won’t publish until the 18th (I don’t know why). This will be the last post about the supporting cast, focusing on my grieving daoine sidhe, Olwen McAlister and the community she and the late Aubric founded, Pharisee County Georgia. Spoilers ahead, though nothing that I think ruins the book (one reason I’m not blogging about my villain, Gwalchmai — I think I’d have to give away too much).

As y’all eventually learn, Olwen and Aubric McAlister were daoine sidhe — elves — who like most of their kind spent centuries flitting between England and their otherworldly realm, the Hither Country. When the Puritans came to power after the English Civil War, however, they saw the fae as demons and sought to drive them out. Ringing the church bells, for instance; in themselves, they’re harmless but rung with malice towards elvenkind, they create agony. The sidhe closed the gates to their realm and fled into a further plane, the Thither Country. From there, they can never return.

Aubric and Olwen were different. They liked life in the mortal realm so they fled to Ireland, outside the Puritan reach. There they lived outside a small mortal town where people respected the old ways. All was well … until Cromwell’s forces invaded and crushed the Irish. Olwen and Aubric fled again, across the sea to the New World, taking with them the townsfolk in a magical boat. They arrived and wound up settling in Georgia before it was even a colony.

As Katharine Briggs’ Encyclopedia of Fairies makes clear, the fae of British folklore are not pleasant people. I developed Olwen and Aubric — whom Gwalchmai has murdered before the book begins — with that in mind. They’re immortal; from their perspective any pain they inflict on mortals will be over in an eyeblink; who cares about the suffering of mayflies? Their own suffering, by contrast, is a long-lasting thing. They hold grudges and they take revenge when they’re crossed, and it’s easier than you’d think to cross them.

By the time the book starts, Olwen has been watching over the people of Pharisee for three centuries and it’s mellowed her. She might be disdainful of outsiders’ lives but Pharisee folk? They’re hers. She will protect them, as she’s always done. She’s as close as I’ve ever come to a “morally gray” character, as so many book ads put it. The good stuff she does is noble and compassionate, the bad stuff is very bad. I think I’ve done a good job acknowledging both.

Then there’s Pharisee itself. I made the right call in casting Maria, an outsider, as my protagonist. She doesn’t know what’s going on, she’s primarily concerned with herself rather than Pharisee; I thought at one point about turning Joan Slattery into the protagonist. I realized if I did that, the exposition would get awkward: Joan already knows everything about Pharisee. Sharing information with the reader would take either me providing info-dumps or Joan having “as you know” conversations. An outsider slowly learning the truth, works much better.

However the more I worked on the book, the more I realized Maria wasn’t enough. Even adding Rachel, Liz and Joan wasn’t enough. Because this wasn’t just the story of the individual residents, it’s the story of the entire county (primarily the town of Pharisee). What it’s been like for them flourishing under the guidance of Olwen and Aubric. How they’ve adapted as outsiders have become residents, buying up property and turning it into a bedroom community for Atlanta commuters. What happens when Aubric, one of their rocks for 300 years, lies dead.

So my POV cast is quite large. Sheriff Slattery. Father Michael, the senior Catholic priest. His brother Harry, the head of the county commission. Military attorney Captain Jeff Carpenter. Dr. Aaron Moreno, one of the new physicians in town. His daughter Susan. Some of them know the truth; some don’t. Together they make up the mosaic of Pharisee. Which Gwalchmai is on the brink of smashing to pieces.

I’ll be announcing the book release Saturday, with links.

My cover is by Samantha Collins, the other artist is unknown to me. All rights to images remain with current holders.

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July 3, 2026 · 5:15 pm

Cats, borders, knees, writing, blood! My week in review

First the blood: Saturday I made my regular donation to the Red Cross. They’ve remodeled their facility and I was the first “power red” (double dose of red blood cells) donor there. I wrapped up just a little too soon for someone from the regional HQ to photograph me, darn it. That would have been kind of cool.

Tuesday, it was cat day: time to take Snowdrop in for his wellness exam and shots. He’s way harder to cage for the trip than Wisp; she’ll let us pick her up which gives us a chance to shove her in. Snow’s less trusting. However I got a dose of gabapentin — painkiller that also makes ’em sleepy — into him with a small morning meal. That left him just groggy enough to load into a cat carrier. He’s mostly in good shape, however he does have a heart murmur. Those can be bad in cats so we’re waiting to see what the labwork says.

Minor bonus, they applied his topical heartworm/flea med so we don’t have to do that again for two months.

Borders: as I type this, the theme I use for this blog has suddenly dropped the illustration on the vertical borders so there’s nothing but the image at the top. Maybe it’s a temporary thing and it’s gone by now. Maybe I’ll have to change themes because the brown border looks dreadful. I haven’t had a chance to do anything about it yet.

Knees: Tuesday, after TYG brought Snowdrop home, I went to physical therapy. Nothing major but my left knee gives me twinges in certain positions. I’d like it to stop. The therapist gave me a set of exercises which I’ve been working on. Too soon for any miracle cures, though. I also got a sleep apnea kit in the mail — my doctor thought that might relate to my recurrent insomnia — and I spent three nights with a testing kit on, making me feel like a cyborg. My grimace below is because I also felt like Hannibal Lector in his muzzle in Silence of the Lambs.

I slept better than I expected with that thing on. However it was choppy, which contributed to my tiredness for some of the week. Plus the pets were needier than usual. Still I got some good stuff done. Articles for The Local Reporter on Carrboro’s 2027 budget and the drought’s impact on Carrboro (not up yet). That took up Monday and Tuesday.

Wednesday I tackled the next chapter of Let No Man Put Asunder. Didn’t go well. The changes I’m making are good but they’re the kind that require further changes — if the sinister Community of All simply puts everyone in Bluestone in a stoned trance, Mandy doesn’t have the conflict of fighting innocent mind-controlled people. It still works better and fits the Community’s strange goals; however I have no idea what comes next. And Wednesday I was most tired.

Thursday I worked on “Die and Let Live.” It’s steadily improving but ends up way too talky as Colin and Deadbeat explain what’s been happening and everyone debates ethics. Either I shift some of that material earlier in the story, I come up with a more dramatic ending or both (ideally both).

I also got the first scene of a new story. My mind generated several new details: one character, Claire, comes from the town of Riddle Grove where her family lives at Enigma Towers. And their last name, Maistery, sounds a lot like “Mystery” if you say it aloud. Her estranged best friend notes the pattern and decides they’ll make a joke about it later. I have no idea what it means but it isn’t anything funny. So my mind’s clearly engaged — not enough to figure out what comes next yet.

Today was, as usual, devoted to next week’s blog posts, planning what to write, and emptying my in-box. Plus we took Trixie and Plushie in for some shots and, as Plushie’s been walking wobbly recently, asked the vet about it. She says he might have some back pain and recommended upping his gabapentin dose for now. Makes sense as we lowered it a couple of months back. We’ll see if it helps.

What made the visit memorable is that Plushie expressed his displeasure by pooping on the exam room floor. And then several alarmingly runny poops after that. Hopefully it’s just a momentary lapse and not the return of his dread diarrhea. We’ll see.

And now for something completely cool, author’s copies of Southern Discomfort arrived this week.

Cover by Samantha Collins. All rights are mine.

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July 1, 2026 · 5:15 am

A good writing insight from Carl Dreyer

Carl Dreyer is the Danish director of Vampyr, an adaptation of LeFanu’s short story, “Carmilla.” Discussing the movie, the book Classics of the Horror Film had a quote from Dreyer so striking I took a photo:

I don’t see any immediate application to the stuff I’m working on but I think it’s worth sharing.

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