untitled

You know, I’m thinking I’ll make a lot of progress on my “summer-project” novel as soon as conditions become less, what’s the word, summery. It’s been hot. I haven’t exactly been on fire. Hot. Hot. Hot. And the humidity.

So I wasn’t kidding last week about the tweet-length fiction. There are markets for the stuff, you know. With editors and websites and everything. A few days ago escarp published this very very short and quite untitled fiction.

forty coming

1. 40 is about how many works I have in progress. Truly, works and works and works and works and works and works. Progress, not so much.
2. 40 is the age I have about reached. All I ask for my birthday is that everybody act surprised.

forthcoming

After many months of neglecting the Internet, I’ve begun to get my act back together as far as submitting fiction goes, and I will have pieces published online this spring. The Internet and I agree I need this shiny new and long overdue blog to make suchlike announcements and also to provide theoretical gratification for anyone with nothing better to do than Google me.