Twisted Treatises

And I'm only partially through with it. Halfway, I believe. It came to pass that I signed an agreement with Godless, so all effort is going toward final edits, formats, and cover creation for my first full-length novel. A beast at over 166,000 words, it's taking everything out of me. Except for one thing, and that's my love of the book I'm taking the time to write about now. This anthology from Dark Moon Rising Publications and editor J.C. Macek is a masterpiece of, like Nature Triumphs, dark speculative horror fiction. Hybridized. Pulpy. Surreal. Gritty. Many of the  stories are positively trippy. David Tamarin and his Wizard doing the reverse of what the song says a Wizard ought to do. Mawr Gorshin and his beautifully nonbinary rendition of a romantic Lucifer. Don Webb brings Ozzy himself to a parallel dimension where everything is more fucked up than the old singer's past dope trips. From Rhys Hughes, a tennis pro whose wife becomes the net a la Super Blockout be

Nature Triumphs: A Charity Anthology of Dark Speculative literature had a very rocky birth. Most of you know why. But luckily, the brave tenacity of our publisher coupled with the courage of the editors involved made sure this wonderful book saw the light. And I couldn’t be happier with it. A mixture of short fiction and poetry grace these pages. The stories in there will surprise you. Hallucinogenic frog soup. Night of the Living Dead Deer. Trees fed up with human catharsis and taking matters into their own branches. Weed that smokes you. A yard whose practical joke against its owner drives him to madness. A vengeful beekeeper and his buzzing warriors. An elite group of military “Reapers” work to rid the world of infected zombies in what becomes nothing short of a Heinlein-esque gorefest. And then there is my tale, “A New Mom for the Bee Boy” in which an exploited orphan with an affinity for bees becomes the downfall of a powerful family of Satanic hedonists. These and more gems awai

I'm looking through this blog. There's triple digit reads on many things, but the plants have only 3. REALLY? What's the matter? Y'ALL DON'T LIKE PLANTS? AREN'T THEY FUCKIN PRETTY? Okay, now that we've laughed together, let's get serious. I see Harris diss memes, I see Trump diss memes, I see some people doing both and I get it. I do. I'm a very, very understanding bastard. I will not lose love for anyone who disses Harris. I'm not sure of her myself. She's a DA, and I'm a Felon. However, though a Felon, Trump is the kind of Felon we real Felons punk out in the pod if you feel me. If he went to jail, his only hope would be to join the Aryan Nation. They'd have him. The Bloods would fucking eat him guaranteed. He's Hitler on Valium with a group of Nazis Who Hate Brown People Instead behind him. Still I can't, knowing what I know, just say "Yes, Harris will save the world. I do not know that. There every chance she'll g

First--I'm a felon and can't vote (that we are close to having a felon president notwithstanding), but if I could, I'd vote Harris. You got-damn right I would. Even though she's said and done things I don't like, I would. Why? She's not Trump, and this is the way the game is played. Unless 200 million of us all band together, this is the way the game will CONTINUE to be played. Is that going to happen? HA! NO. So. Yes, I'd vote Harris. Wanna throw over it, MAGA? You chant "Fight!" And the rage kicks in... I've done my best to be nice in this. I've watched people who've never made a fist in their life cry for Mad Max shit to happen. That's so fucking annoying. I've done my best to keep quiet. I'm fuckin' done being quiet. (Some clarity before we begin: When I say "forever" I mean as far as the USA is concerned. Continuing on.) The "woke" people have been repressed and persecuted FOR THE FUCK EVER. Do

  But why? It helps me live to help something else live. Plants in the yard, see, are totally fucking helpless. They’re just like domesticated animals in certain respects. You probably think your dog or cat is feral, I promise it isn’t. I’ll tell you how I know. Because I’ve seen hawks and owls snatch unwary animals and take them up into the sky. Often these are mice from my own backyard. My pets have been fine. There are others in Fernley and Fallon who aren’t so lucky. Hawks and owls do NOT fuck around. At all. They will pluck your pet from the yard. Domesticated animals don’t have that sixth sense their feral cousins have, so they won’t feel the hawk’s approach and thus fuck off. They’ll stand there being cute until they become lunch.             Plants, where the climate is concerned, are the same. In our case, climate is the hawk. Here in Northern Nevada, there are trees and creosote plants, purple sages, occasional cacti, and of course the ubiquitous jack pines that thrive wil

  A quick one. What is going on? Did I take a deep breath and get real high? What's got me pumped? Hm. Projects. I'm so close to finishing this query. That's cool for a bunch of reasons, but the one that makes me happiest is-- On the 21st, my short story "Polarity" should be coming out, so I can send them my novel... and I might have a good chance. They like speculative and prose as long as there's lots of crime--and there is. Drugs. Violence. Robbery. A Hurricane. Crazy dealers. More drugs. Streets. Hobos. Lunatics...and Eye Worms. Lots of eye worms. The horrors of drug addiction on a street level (second only to rock star) laid bare. There's even an angel, briefly. Signed contracts for three (3) anthologies. Nature Triumphs, and two poetry anthologies: The Devil's Playground and The Beauty in Darkness. Got an editing gig--Confessions from the Think Tank (pictured above)--an anthology for dystopian tales. DARPA think tanks. Aliens doing who knows w