Nonblogging

Tonight I started writing a blog entry about how insane I go every time someone tells me to smile, but it quickly became clear that such a blog with either make people tell me to smile more, or become a 20 page rant on the state of a society which applies value to what science tells us is nothing more than an evolved response to threat and fear.

 

I wanted to write that even less than you'd want to read it.

 

So, instead, I've decided to write a blog about a blog I didn't write.

About 2 months ago, I didn't write another blog, this one about the flaws of the "Death Before Decaf" arguement.

Goodnight.

Losing a Flash Fiction Contest

A few days ago, I entered a contest to win tickets to see my favorite writer of all time (Gene Wolfe) get honored for his life's work near Chicago. Not only did I not win, I wasn't even one of the four finalists. I'm perfectly alright with that, though, because this story marks the breaking of the writer's block that's been holding me down for the last year. Sure, I've adapted some of my things into comic scripts, but that didn't count as real writing--to me--because I wasn't making something NEW. This story is new, and though it's short, I'm fairly proud of it. Since I didn't win, I've decided to put it up here.

 

The requirements of the contest were that the story was between 100 and 250 words, and that it had to do with wolves or a Wolfe.

Here's the story:

 

My Brother's Wolves

In the back of the house I was raised in, the part no one ever used, there lived a pack of wolves. They spent their days frolicking in and out of the shadows, chasing each other across dimensions and sideways through time. They belonged to my oldest brother, but he was always too consumed by what he called his "special darkness" or chasing after girls. For this reason, the chore of the feeding of the wolves usually fell to me.

I would stalk through the nighttime streets of our city, and hunt for some unlucky man to bring back home with me. Invariably, the men who followed me home were slightly soiled, and had haunted, dead eyes. I'd take their candy or their crumpled, sweaty money, and lead them back to the rambling old house we called home. I'd lead them through the house, ignoring their whispered questions and dancing out of the reach of their groping hands. When we reached the room the wolves lived in, I would open the door, usher them in, and slam the door shut behind them. The men never lasted long, but that didn't stop me from sitting with my back to the door so that I could listen to the sounds of the feast that came through the door.

It was the only part of my childhood I enjoyed.

 

A Quick Word About A New Project

I've been quiet on the webs lately. I haven't had a whole lot to say, but I'm writing this short post to ask you to go over to DangerBrigade.com, and read their newest comic. It's one of the few that I follow on a regular basis, and that's why it pleases me to no end to announce that I have written a graphic novel, and will be making it with the artist--his name is, Metropolis Catpiss--of Danger Brigade. It's based on one of my short stories, and I'm so damned excited about it that I'm having trouble controlling my bladder. 

 We don't have a set release date yet, but we're meeting tomorrow, and that might be one of the things we decide on. We're also going to be doing a Kickstarter to help us raise some funds that we'll need to release the book to the world. Stay tuned for that and other news about the book. 

 This is the project that I've been referring to as Secret Comic Project #2. By the nature of that name, you'll be able to guess that I've got another project being worked on. I'll tell you all about that one, Secret Comic Project #1, as news becomes available.

Go Home

Here's a thing. It's stupid, but I kinda like it.

Next week I start working on designing the second edition of Early Mourning, and fixing the many typos and fuck-ups.

I'm also thinking about making it so you can read EM on the Kindle for free, for a limited time, but that will make it so I can't give the eBook away during that period. I can't decide.

We'll see.

Yeah, Yeah.

I am old today.
That's it.

I Get Bored

I do get bored, but whenever that happens, I make myself make a thing. This is what happened when I got bored today:

Shh.