Review.I’m getting behind. I’ve read a bunch o’ good books lately. Don’t Ask, by Donald Westlake. I don’t know if this is the real story, but this is what I imagine: Donald Westlake mails his M.S. into his agent, without a title. The agent opens the box, calls Westlake, and says, “Well, Donnie (you don’t […]

More than you needed to know. This could be…well, it’s about writing, but it’s also about sex. You decide. Let’s start with the premise that not all porn is the same. There are as many different types of porn as there are different types of sex. Of course, most people gravitate to a few certain

Rejections update. “Name of the Feather” is finally back from Ellery Queen. Just when you’re about to a) give up hope or b) hope you’ve made some kind of cut and they’ll at least give you a personal note from a big house…nope.

Tact. Tact is frustrating. I’d much rather say what I think or keep my mouth shut. I have a friend in a situation I doubt will turn out for the best. Fine. Mouth shut. I think he’ll survive the whole thing. But if he asks what I think about it, I’m going to have to

Bored? This is me, blathering about work. You can skip it. This last week at work has been one long episode of deja vu from high school. They call it a training class, but really it’s just a roomful of smartasses staring at a markerboard in the front of the room. The question/answer sessions were

Quick notes early on a Friday morning. 1. Joe has been moved. He’s now living in an awesome house on the northernish side of actual Colorado Springs (near Academy and Union, actually). The yard is of such a type that when engineer-trained Joe says he’s going to make a waterfall in the backyard, I believe

Wit. I said, “Sorry. Brain fart.” She said, “Well, at least that kind doesn’t stink.”

Notes. “Games” (see below) has been submitted to Toasted Cheese as a flash fiction piece.

Out! Did I forget to mention it? I believe so. The manager of our apartment complex is out! Out! Possibly tens of thousands of dollars of embezzling. The owners, of course, aren’t going to press charges. It must have been that last communique. Which one? Oh, the one that said that she was going to

Snippet: Tofu Cartel! What with one thing and another (a couple of freshman girls from Miller drove over and bought one of the new tarot decks she’d ordered, not Rider Waite, not Thoth, the one with the cats? No, the Medicine Wheel deck. And the orange juice machine broke during breakfast. An earring down the