I average four text messages a week from people I've never met either struggling with addiction or a friend or relative of a victim. I have six friends, including two of my closest friends with … [Read more...] about The Election
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The Broken Bones of Age
Face plant. I feel the pebbles of the pavement on my cheek. Thirty seconds ago I was hitting it hard, my fourteen pound titanium bicycle and I were tearing up a … [Read more...] about The Broken Bones of Age
The Publish Button, Complete With Sireeeeens
So, here we are at the very end. This is where things start to get interesting. After six months of bitching and complaining about friends and editors and marketing people, after all that screaming … [Read more...] about The Publish Button, Complete With Sireeeeens
Our Hero Meets His Match…
Settling in and enjoying the heady aroma of my book burning in the fire pit, I remember I have to call Rob. You know Rob by now, the guy with the sound advice. The guy who actually helps me and wants … [Read more...] about Our Hero Meets His Match…
Self Publishing Becomes Self Loathing…
And so self publishing becomes self loathing... I hate this book. I hate me for ever starting it. I hate every word. All 128,000 stupid, fucking, misspelled, incorrectly punctuated, echoed, passive … [Read more...] about Self Publishing Becomes Self Loathing…
