There will be no ABNA news for you tonight! HAHAHAHA! Still no news yet… Update: I didn’t make it to the quarterfinals (500), but I got to the 2000 that had excerpts reviewed. The reviews haven’t been sent out yet, though.

I’m trying to put a finger on the fiction writing period from about 1900-1914. It’s difficult. I’m not a historian, so please don’t take all this as intended as authoritative, just throwing ideas around. And granted, there were pulp magazines at this time (Argosy started in 1896), but this just wasn’t the Great Age of

The joke itself wasn’t funny, just the punchline: “…banging that woman like a screen door in a tornado.”

Meetings are good for me. I get a lot of brainstorming done, a lot of networking. Like the other day. I was in a meeting and sat next to someone I don’t talk to much. We spent the meeting passing notes back and forth making fun of the people on the other side of the

Blogging is easy when you’re supposed to be working from home.

I used to have dreams about showing up at high school naked, but they never really bothered me. Pfft. Those idiots were nothing compared to junior high. Or fifth grade, for that matter. The dreams that would bother me were the ones where I would show up somewhere and someone would say, “You’re late! You’re

Yeah, I’m a nerd: I’m doing some yoga and thinking about my chakras (the solar plexus is bothering me lately, all wound up in knots and acid, but less so than in the past) and looking forward to taking a day off to play Warhammer when I realize RPG character classes fit with the chakras.

Because, hey, the whole point of the movie was to answer that quasi-eternal question, by a technicality. Lee and I saw the movie a la Consortium, arriving slightly later than we “should” have for the 7 p.m. IMAX showing. We moved directly to front-and-center seats, which was to produce amusing consequences but not neck cramps;

Somebody please tell me that Prince Charming Publishers want my book right now, no questions asked, because I am done writing this @#$%^&* summary.

Weird Tales rejected “Fragile” – the dreaded rejection 13. Sniff! That’s okay. The editor said I could send them more stuff, and I have more stuff to send when submissions open again on March 31st, a short story about Greek food and strange appetites, called “Winterfruit.” I feel about this story the way some women