Still surprised that I'm writing again. Thought the ghost had fled for good.
Currently, I'm writing a crime novel titled Grimgrack. After I finish a first draft, I'll do one last polish on a teen horror novel - Exit The Skin Palace - and publish that masterpiece on Smashwords. Then hop and skip back into Grimgrack's waiting embrace.
Experience lets me know submitting to literary agents is a waste of time, doubly so now that I've self-published two novels to no acclaim and no notice.
Yet I persist.
Other than that, Lucid slips out of Kindle Select mode as of tomorrow. I'll put it back up on Smashwords, where I probably should've just left it.
I started a petition. There are already lots of petitions against the Yulin Dog Meat Festival, but one more can't hurt to try and end something royally fucked up to my Western notions of morality, right?
It is a questionable line in the sand to draw given I feed the cats chicken and fish and likely hunks of pig and cow treated just as horribly as those dogs and cats unlucky enough to exist in China.
But I don't own a halo. My moral needle just dips red for certain things.
Like every other knucklehead out there, I'm just doing what I can and hopefully cleaning up my shit to the best of my paltry skills, rumbling and bumbling along towards the eventual sunset.