#thegreenlanddiaries — Public Fediverse posts

Visit me Selling my Books at Art A Whirl 2026

Alright, pretty self explanatory. I’ll be at Art A Whirl all weekend selling my books.

Art A Whirl is an awesome event, and this is my first time at it. So I guess I assume it’s awesome? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve heard amazing things. I know that is busy, fun, different, unique, and very artsy.

To learn more about Art a Whirl hit it right here.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Admission is FREE. Friday 5 – 10 pm, Saturday 12 – 8 pm, and Sunday 12 – 5 pm. I’m in the Artspace Jackson Flats 901 18 1⁄2 Ave NE Minneapolis, MN 55418. I’m inside the building, in front of some office door. I hope nobody gets entombed by my books, but so be it if it happens.

I’ll have all my books for sale. All revised editions. The best these books have to offer. Now is the time to get invested in the series. Also, buy other stuff around the place. It isn’t all about me. I love my monsters, and my books, but there is so much to see at this event. I can’t wait to be a part of it.

Hope to see you there!

Visit me Selling my Books at Art A Whirl 2026

Alright, pretty self explanatory. I’ll be at Art A Whirl all weekend selling my books.

Art A Whirl is an awesome event, and this is my first time at it. So I guess I assume it’s awesome? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve heard amazing things. I know that is busy, fun, different, unique, and very artsy.

To learn more about Art a Whirl hit it right here.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Admission is FREE. Friday 5 – 10 pm, Saturday 12 – 8 pm, and Sunday 12 – 5 pm. I’m in the Artspace Jackson Flats 901 18 1⁄2 Ave NE Minneapolis, MN 55418. I’m inside the building, in front of some office door. I hope nobody gets entombed by my books, but so be it if it happens.

I’ll have all my books for sale. All revised editions. The best these books have to offer. Now is the time to get invested in the series. Also, buy other stuff around the place. It isn’t all about me. I love my monsters, and my books, but there is so much to see at this event. I can’t wait to be a part of it.

Hope to see you there!

Visit me Selling my Books at Art A Whirl 2026

Alright, pretty self explanatory. I’ll be at Art A Whirl all weekend selling my books.

Art A Whirl is an awesome event, and this is my first time at it. So I guess I assume it’s awesome? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve heard amazing things. I know that is busy, fun, different, unique, and very artsy.

To learn more about Art a Whirl hit it right here.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Admission is FREE. Friday 5 – 10 pm, Saturday 12 – 8 pm, and Sunday 12 – 5 pm. I’m in the Artspace Jackson Flats 901 18 1⁄2 Ave NE Minneapolis, MN 55418. I’m inside the building, in front of some office door. I hope nobody gets entombed by my books, but so be it if it happens.

I’ll have all my books for sale. All revised editions. The best these books have to offer. Now is the time to get invested in the series. Also, buy other stuff around the place. It isn’t all about me. I love my monsters, and my books, but there is so much to see at this event. I can’t wait to be a part of it.

Hope to see you there!

Visit me Selling my Books at Art A Whirl 2026

Alright, pretty self explanatory. I’ll be at Art A Whirl all weekend selling my books.

Art A Whirl is an awesome event, and this is my first time at it. So I guess I assume it’s awesome? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve heard amazing things. I know that is busy, fun, different, unique, and very artsy.

To learn more about Art a Whirl hit it right here.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Admission is FREE. Friday 5 – 10 pm, Saturday 12 – 8 pm, and Sunday 12 – 5 pm. I’m in the Artspace Jackson Flats 901 18 1⁄2 Ave NE Minneapolis, MN 55418. I’m inside the building, in front of some office door. I hope nobody gets entombed by my books, but so be it if it happens.

I’ll have all my books for sale. All revised editions. The best these books have to offer. Now is the time to get invested in the series. Also, buy other stuff around the place. It isn’t all about me. I love my monsters, and my books, but there is so much to see at this event. I can’t wait to be a part of it.

Hope to see you there!

Visit me Selling my Books at Art A Whirl 2026

Alright, pretty self explanatory. I’ll be at Art A Whirl all weekend selling my books.

Art A Whirl is an awesome event, and this is my first time at it. So I guess I assume it’s awesome? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve heard amazing things. I know that is busy, fun, different, unique, and very artsy.

To learn more about Art a Whirl hit it right here.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Admission is FREE. Friday 5 – 10 pm, Saturday 12 – 8 pm, and Sunday 12 – 5 pm. I’m in the Artspace Jackson Flats 901 18 1⁄2 Ave NE Minneapolis, MN 55418. I’m inside the building, in front of some office door. I hope nobody gets entombed by my books, but so be it if it happens.

I’ll have all my books for sale. All revised editions. The best these books have to offer. Now is the time to get invested in the series. Also, buy other stuff around the place. It isn’t all about me. I love my monsters, and my books, but there is so much to see at this event. I can’t wait to be a part of it.

Hope to see you there!

Read my Poem “A Junkyard Father” Published on Altered Reality Magazine

Hello again! I recently had a trifecta of luck at Altered Reality with some poems, and this is my second one that was picked up for publication by them.

This week the poem is a little different than my previous one. No haunted forest or paradoxical monsters.

Instead, I choose to focus on an image that has haunted me ever since I watched it. The toy scene in Bladerunner (director’s cut of course) in Sebastian’s attic has stuck with me ever since I watched it back in 2004. I often wonder what would those cybernetic creations do if Sebastian never returned.

Who would take care of them?

In “A Junkyard Father” I follow this same idea and principle. A scientist has created sentient toys in some robotic future, and he is confronted with the concept of mortality. When he dies and leaves this world, they’ll be nobody to take care of them. The toys will outlive him, and still require maintenance. He’ll die when they could potentially live for centuries.

How will they cope? Who will be there?

You can read “A Junkyard Father” right here.

As always, you should check out the whole of Altered Reality. They publish great stuff from a variety of voices.

Thank you for reading my work, and have a nice Wednesday!

Read my Poem “A Junkyard Father” Published on Altered Reality Magazine

Hello again! I recently had a trifecta of luck at Altered Reality with some poems, and this is my second one that was picked up for publication by them.

This week the poem is a little different than my previous one. No haunted forest or paradoxical monsters.

Instead, I choose to focus on an image that has haunted me ever since I watched it. The toy scene in Bladerunner (director’s cut of course) in Sebastian’s attic has stuck with me ever since I watched it back in 2004. I often wonder what would those cybernetic creations do if Sebastian never returned.

Who would take care of them?

In “A Junkyard Father” I follow this same idea and principle. A scientist has created sentient toys in some robotic future, and he is confronted with the concept of mortality. When he dies and leaves this world, they’ll be nobody to take care of them. The toys will outlive him, and still require maintenance. He’ll die when they could potentially live for centuries.

How will they cope? Who will be there?

You can read “A Junkyard Father” right here.

As always, you should check out the whole of Altered Reality. They publish great stuff from a variety of voices.

Thank you for reading my work, and have a nice Wednesday!

Read my Poem “A Junkyard Father” Published on Altered Reality Magazine

Hello again! I recently had a trifecta of luck at Altered Reality with some poems, and this is my second one that was picked up for publication by them.

This week the poem is a little different than my previous one. No haunted forest or paradoxical monsters.

Instead, I choose to focus on an image that has haunted me ever since I watched it. The toy scene in Bladerunner (director’s cut of course) in Sebastian’s attic has stuck with me ever since I watched it back in 2004. I often wonder what would those cybernetic creations do if Sebastian never returned.

Who would take care of them?

In “A Junkyard Father” I follow this same idea and principle. A scientist has created sentient toys in some robotic future, and he is confronted with the concept of mortality. When he dies and leaves this world, they’ll be nobody to take care of them. The toys will outlive him, and still require maintenance. He’ll die when they could potentially live for centuries.

How will they cope? Who will be there?

You can read “A Junkyard Father” right here.

As always, you should check out the whole of Altered Reality. They publish great stuff from a variety of voices.

Thank you for reading my work, and have a nice Wednesday!

Read my Poem “A Junkyard Father” Published on Altered Reality Magazine

Hello again! I recently had a trifecta of luck at Altered Reality with some poems, and this is my second one that was picked up for publication by them.

This week the poem is a little different than my previous one. No haunted forest or paradoxical monsters.

Instead, I choose to focus on an image that has haunted me ever since I watched it. The toy scene in Bladerunner (director’s cut of course) in Sebastian’s attic has stuck with me ever since I watched it back in 2004. I often wonder what would those cybernetic creations do if Sebastian never returned.

Who would take care of them?

In “A Junkyard Father” I follow this same idea and principle. A scientist has created sentient toys in some robotic future, and he is confronted with the concept of mortality. When he dies and leaves this world, they’ll be nobody to take care of them. The toys will outlive him, and still require maintenance. He’ll die when they could potentially live for centuries.

How will they cope? Who will be there?

You can read “A Junkyard Father” right here.

As always, you should check out the whole of Altered Reality. They publish great stuff from a variety of voices.

Thank you for reading my work, and have a nice Wednesday!

Read my Poem “A Junkyard Father” Published on Altered Reality Magazine

Hello again! I recently had a trifecta of luck at Altered Reality with some poems, and this is my second one that was picked up for publication by them.

This week the poem is a little different than my previous one. No haunted forest or paradoxical monsters.

Instead, I choose to focus on an image that has haunted me ever since I watched it. The toy scene in Bladerunner (director’s cut of course) in Sebastian’s attic has stuck with me ever since I watched it back in 2004. I often wonder what would those cybernetic creations do if Sebastian never returned.

Who would take care of them?

In “A Junkyard Father” I follow this same idea and principle. A scientist has created sentient toys in some robotic future, and he is confronted with the concept of mortality. When he dies and leaves this world, they’ll be nobody to take care of them. The toys will outlive him, and still require maintenance. He’ll die when they could potentially live for centuries.

How will they cope? Who will be there?

You can read “A Junkyard Father” right here.

As always, you should check out the whole of Altered Reality. They publish great stuff from a variety of voices.

Thank you for reading my work, and have a nice Wednesday!

Writing Update 4/29/26

• Back. I’m not just some mindless story promoting, blog posting bot from the depths of some tungsten hades. I’m still here, lurking in the shadows like some sort of specter in a two-story window of a Victorian mansion. I’ve got a bunch of new stuff to report in terms of what I’ve had published, working on, and other various tidbits. Here. We. Go.
• I’ve got a new book coming out this summer. It is called The Unnamed: A Collection of Stories from the Greenland Diaries. There will be a ton of stories about my monsters. Over 30 stories from the Greenland Diaries universe. They will take place before the Drum, during it, immediately after its destruction, and decades after it appeared. The stories do cover the Unnamed, but also human survivors, and the Reanimated. I’m not sure when I’ll have it fully available on my bookstore, but it should be no later than July. I will be selling it at CONvergence, and also having a book release party for it August. More details coming soon.
• I had a trio of poems published over at Horrific Scribblings. There was the Lucky and Broken, which is about Medusa’s lair and her stone victims. The Sounds, which includes a troll who hates the sounds of happiness. Then the Bloody Blade, which follows a cavernous sword and its samurai master. You find all three right here to read. It is a great publication. Super honored.
• I will have a table for Art a Whirl coming up here in the Twin Cities. Not sure the exact details yet, but it is coming up soon in May on the 15th, 16th, and 17th. I’ll be selling books in this cool studio place. I’m excited.
• My poem the Breadcrumbs was published by Carmina Magazine. It is about a dragon musing over the constant string of knights willing to die at his doorstep looking for glory. You can read it right here, but also should check out the awesome lit magazine overall.
• October is looking like a busy month for me. I know that is a long way off, but I’ll have quite a few events going. Three different events it looks like. A couple different readings. Might add one more event. October is a big month for a literary horror writer like myself.
• Another poem of mine was published by a literary magazine. This time it is Mouthwatering and it is available at Star*Line. This is a paid magazine, so you need a subscription. Still an amazing place, and I highly suggest supporting them. Carnivorous fish torment a seaside town. As one does.
• The amount of media I’ve been digesting has been all over the place. Finally beat Expedition 33. One of my favorite games of all time. Easily in my top five. Incredible story. Awesome gameplay. Unforgettable music. I’ll be replaying it for the rest of my life.
• Been watching a lot of anime since I converted my wife to it the last year or so. I can’t even remember all the ones I’ve watch recently. One of them was My Hero Academia Vigilantes. I was a big fan of the original series, and this one is a bit more subtle and humorous. Fun to be back in that universe again. I appreciate that Knuckle Buster doesn’t have a quirk. He just beats the crap out of people.
• Listened to some Stephen King recently via audiobook. Really good storyteller. I had not read much by him in my life, but really appreciated a lot of his short stories. Had to stop listening because one of them was simply too dark to continue. Maybe I’ll get back to it. I’m listening to Dungeon Crawler Carl right now with my wife. It is fantastic. I’m really enjoying it, especially since we’re playing through Minecraft Dungeons together for the second time.
• Still making my way through ALL of Anne Sexton’s poem. Still marvelous, sad, dark, depressing, and all of that. Started reading a collection of Wallace Steven’s poems as well. Quite a contrast between the two. Stevens continues to be one of my favorites. So does Sexton.
• Alrighty, well, that’s all I got for now. I hope you all are staying healthy and safe. Thank you for reading my work and continuing to support me. Plenty of more announcements on the way. Take care!

From the Greenland Diaries: Happy Little Trees

“I really didn’t think I’d be using it for this,” Debbie mumbled to a few squirrels crossing the trees to her right. “This is not what I had in mind. Not at all. I guess none of us did, did we? Who could have thought this much has changed in less than two years.”

She stopped and dipped her brush in a can of odorless paint thinner at her feet. It caught a bit of afternoon sun as it gleamed between the sharp stalks of overgrown grass. She beat the brush on the wooden legs of her easel, just like Bob Ross used to do. She tried to laugh thinking of his videos.

She wondered if she would ever watch them again. Power had not been restored, and she had a VHS tape of a few of the episodes. She had noticed them while hiding in her basement beneath the stairs when the Drum first started. They would shake beneath the old tube television her son Tyler had left there from the 90’s. He had been out in California when the Drum started. She doubted she would ever see him again.

Her husband, Tim, had died the first night. Debbie had happened to be downstairs grabbing some chicken breasts to defrost when she heard them arrive. Her instincts fired and she hid quickly and silently. It was like a dormant portion of her brain switched on. The reptilian lobe took control and hid her like she was nothing more than a frightened insect.

It had worked; she had survived.

Now, at present, she was in her backyard. The same backyard of oak trees and white fencing that kept her kids from escaping when they were toddlers. The same backyard her husband had tried to play catch with their son despite him having no interest in sports or athletics. Despite the rampant greenery, and the destruction, she could still see shadows in her memories of these moments. They were her only escape from all the heartbreak and weirdness that had appeared with these actual, living shadows.

One of these very monsters was in her backyard.

Debbie had gone to college for visual art. She then met Tim, who had just returned from Vietnam. They got married, had kids, and her artistic endeavors had firmly gone into purgatory. She always made a little time each week to watch Bob Ross on PBS to keep her skills honed. She loved landscape painting with both oils and acrylics. She loved him, too. She made plenty of mistakes following his tutorials, but he always made her feel like she was supposed to make mistakes. It gave her a sense of confidence, and eventually she was painting without him and to the quality she was creating back when she graduated. 

Then the Drum arrived, and everything changed.

Debbie laughed. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Of all the things to be painting. She couldn’t abandon this emotion. This weirdness. What would Bob Ross say? He was the embodiment of wholesomeness to so many. His ability to communicate positivity in the face of failure and difficulty was unmatched.

What would he say about the Unnamed?

They were beyond anything that his canvas could capture, emulate, or portray, but here Debbie was, using it to paint one in her backyard. Since the destruction of the Drum, survivors had moved through the wasteland and said the Unnamed should no longer be hunting humans like they did before. With the Drum gone they would have a new role in our world, but nobody knew what or how. 

When Debbie first noticed it, mixed in with the edge of the trees that led to the forest she’d lived next to for thirty years, she immediately wanted to hide. However, it stopped, and just floated on the edge of the trees, like it didn’t know where to go. After watching it standing amongst the bark, branches, and billowing leaves, Debbie got an interesting idea. She had been staring at her art supplies and canvases for months. They were just sitting there. Her digital camera and phone had long died. She needed to capture it, to pull into her own voice.

To make it hers.

After all, despite the nights of pure violence, the Unnamed was magnificent in all terms of the word.

It was ten feet tall, wide, and curled over itself like a frozen wave of fluctuating darkness and bone. Its hooks of golden claws were dug into the earth, with flowers sprouting around their impressions and edges. Birds were sitting and chirping along the golden horns and spikes sprouting from their back and hood. Even the shifting shadow beneath that midnight fabric seemed to glow in the sunlight. Below that was its chest of amber ribs, which reflected sunspots of daylight. Occasionally it shifted, but mostly it was just a violent cloud sitting still. A tempest tethered. A sleeping maelstrom of claws and bones. A thunderstorm lost and confused without its demon thunder to call home.

“You’re a good subject; you stay awfully still” Debbie would occasionally mumble from across her yard. She had set up her easel on the back of her brown deck. She had to chisel away at some of the plants that had choked the wooden planks with a spade. Eventually she got it to sit evenly.

“Do you understand what I’m doing?”

The Unnamed would never reply. Debbie was getting low on food. She had heard other survivors were beginning to leave the neighborhood to look for more supplies. Lines of resources were trying to be established, but people still did not trust traveling around the Unnamed, or the Reanimated. She sighed as she labored with the paints. Most of them had been salvageable but there were a few colors that she had to use sparingly. Sadly, green was one of them.

“You’ll always be remembered,” she said, adding the trees and wildlife behind its grizzly shape. 

“Nobody will remember me.”

If you want to learn more about the Greenland Diaries series, you can get the Kindle version of the first book for a dollar right here, or read the first ten days for free.

Visit me selling books at the Curious Crow

Hey all! I’m excited to announce that tomorrow (April 19th) will be my first book event of 2026. I will be selling my books and doing a short reading at the Curious Crow in Lexington Minnesota. I’ll be there with a bunch of other authors.

The event goes from 12 – 5. I’ll have all my books for sale, plus artwork and potentially some candles and other wares. I’ll be running event specials as well so the books are more affordable. $2 for 20, $3 for 30, etc. I only run these deals at events. I do not offer them at on my online bookstore.

Also, there is plenty of other stuff to see at Curious Crow Company. Board, booze, video games, cards, all your standard geek inventory. Also, there will be food trucks. This makes me very happy.

The event is FREE to attend, which is always a nice bonus. Hope to see you there. Excited to be a part of it.

Hit it here to learn more about this event and the Curious Crow

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

Goals are Roots to a Forest

I’m not a huge fan of questions like this, which is why I decided to answer this specific daily writing prompt. A question like this oversimplifies the complexities of life and all its many forces that are thrown at you. I just don’t agree with reducing down a yes or no when it comes to your goals. As if you were simply flipping on a light switch when it reflects making decisions and how they correlate to your goals.

That’s not how dreams and goals actually function in our fragile reality.

We have a bit of a dream/goal issue in our society. We sort of look at them as single-lane highway firing off into some yellow rock wasteland. You can only go in one direction. The hustle. The grind. All those bits of vernacular from the social media monster of a zeitgeist. They’re all masks over shadows. With goals and dreams, if you get off this road of destiny, I feel shame and guilt for sometimes being limited as a freaking human being.

Wants, needs, desires, rest, self-care, there is this certain cloud of shame that surrounds you if you’re not relentlessly pursuing your goals.

I understand passion. Drive. All those buzzwords. I have passion in spades. My god, I’ve gone back and forth on traditional publishing, and self-publishing so many times. Sometimes between decades. I’ve been trying to figure out which direction to go. My overarching goal is the same though as I execute this fluid state. I want to get my voice out there. I want to be seen. I want to tell stories about monsters, and their complexities in various mediums.

These are all different branches, forests, and pathways from the same root.

And that is okay. Your dreams, or for the sake of this question, your goals, don’t have to flow in one direction. We are not a one lane highway. Goals can spread out, find different homes, and adapt to what is echoing in your personal life. Because yes, I would say I’m living my dream by pursuing writing and my monster fascination, but also I want a personal life, and that requires me to be human, and have human needs. I have a wife. Children. A family. Friends. Connections to people in my life. Their needs and mine do not require me to say no, they just require me to be human.

So basically what I’m saying is that you can’t make things this simplistic when it comes to your goals, because goals populate reality in ways you can’t even imagine, exactly how one root can start a forest.

Also, you cannot predict how your goals will unfold, and that’s all the fun.

Goals are Roots to a Forest

I’m not a huge fan of questions like this, which is why I decided to answer this specific daily writing prompt. A question like this oversimplifies the complexities of life and all its many forces that are thrown at you. I just don’t agree with reducing down a yes or no when it comes to your goals. As if you were simply flipping on a light switch when it reflects making decisions and how they correlate to your goals.

That’s not how dreams and goals actually function in our fragile reality.

We have a bit of a dream/goal issue in our society. We sort of look at them as single-lane highway firing off into some yellow rock wasteland. You can only go in one direction. The hustle. The grind. All those bits of vernacular from the social media monster of a zeitgeist. They’re all masks over shadows. With goals and dreams, if you get off this road of destiny, I feel shame and guilt for sometimes being limited as a freaking human being.

Wants, needs, desires, rest, self-care, there is this certain cloud of shame that surrounds you if you’re not relentlessly pursuing your goals.

I understand passion. Drive. All those buzzwords. I have passion in spades. My god, I’ve gone back and forth on traditional publishing, and self-publishing so many times. Sometimes between decades. I’ve been trying to figure out which direction to go. My overarching goal is the same though as I execute this fluid state. I want to get my voice out there. I want to be seen. I want to tell stories about monsters, and their complexities in various mediums.

These are all different branches, forests, and pathways from the same root.

And that is okay. Your dreams, or for the sake of this question, your goals, don’t have to flow in one direction. We are not a one lane highway. Goals can spread out, find different homes, and adapt to what is echoing in your personal life. Because yes, I would say I’m living my dream by pursuing writing and my monster fascination, but also I want a personal life, and that requires me to be human, and have human needs. I have a wife. Children. A family. Friends. Connections to people in my life. Their needs and mine do not require me to say no, they just require me to be human.

So basically what I’m saying is that you can’t make things this simplistic when it comes to your goals, because goals populate reality in ways you can’t even imagine, exactly how one root can start a forest.

Also, you cannot predict how your goals will unfold, and that’s all the fun.

Goals are Roots to a Forest

I’m not a huge fan of questions like this, which is why I decided to answer this specific daily writing prompt. A question like this oversimplifies the complexities of life and all its many forces that are thrown at you. I just don’t agree with reducing down a yes or no when it comes to your goals. As if you were simply flipping on a light switch when it reflects making decisions and how they correlate to your goals.

That’s not how dreams and goals actually function in our fragile reality.

We have a bit of a dream/goal issue in our society. We sort of look at them as single-lane highway firing off into some yellow rock wasteland. You can only go in one direction. The hustle. The grind. All those bits of vernacular from the social media monster of a zeitgeist. They’re all masks over shadows. With goals and dreams, if you get off this road of destiny, I feel shame and guilt for sometimes being limited as a freaking human being.

Wants, needs, desires, rest, self-care, there is this certain cloud of shame that surrounds you if you’re not relentlessly pursuing your goals.

I understand passion. Drive. All those buzzwords. I have passion in spades. My god, I’ve gone back and forth on traditional publishing, and self-publishing so many times. Sometimes between decades. I’ve been trying to figure out which direction to go. My overarching goal is the same though as I execute this fluid state. I want to get my voice out there. I want to be seen. I want to tell stories about monsters, and their complexities in various mediums.

These are all different branches, forests, and pathways from the same root.

And that is okay. Your dreams, or for the sake of this question, your goals, don’t have to flow in one direction. We are not a one lane highway. Goals can spread out, find different homes, and adapt to what is echoing in your personal life. Because yes, I would say I’m living my dream by pursuing writing and my monster fascination, but also I want a personal life, and that requires me to be human, and have human needs. I have a wife. Children. A family. Friends. Connections to people in my life. Their needs and mine do not require me to say no, they just require me to be human.

So basically what I’m saying is that you can’t make things this simplistic when it comes to your goals, because goals populate reality in ways you can’t even imagine, exactly how one root can start a forest.

Also, you cannot predict how your goals will unfold, and that’s all the fun.

Goals are Roots to a Forest

I’m not a huge fan of questions like this, which is why I decided to answer this specific daily writing prompt. A question like this oversimplifies the complexities of life and all its many forces that are thrown at you. I just don’t agree with reducing down a yes or no when it comes to your goals. As if you were simply flipping on a light switch when it reflects making decisions and how they correlate to your goals.

That’s not how dreams and goals actually function in our fragile reality.

We have a bit of a dream/goal issue in our society. We sort of look at them as single-lane highway firing off into some yellow rock wasteland. You can only go in one direction. The hustle. The grind. All those bits of vernacular from the social media monster of a zeitgeist. They’re all masks over shadows. With goals and dreams, if you get off this road of destiny, I feel shame and guilt for sometimes being limited as a freaking human being.

Wants, needs, desires, rest, self-care, there is this certain cloud of shame that surrounds you if you’re not relentlessly pursuing your goals.

I understand passion. Drive. All those buzzwords. I have passion in spades. My god, I’ve gone back and forth on traditional publishing, and self-publishing so many times. Sometimes between decades. I’ve been trying to figure out which direction to go. My overarching goal is the same though as I execute this fluid state. I want to get my voice out there. I want to be seen. I want to tell stories about monsters, and their complexities in various mediums.

These are all different branches, forests, and pathways from the same root.

And that is okay. Your dreams, or for the sake of this question, your goals, don’t have to flow in one direction. We are not a one lane highway. Goals can spread out, find different homes, and adapt to what is echoing in your personal life. Because yes, I would say I’m living my dream by pursuing writing and my monster fascination, but also I want a personal life, and that requires me to be human, and have human needs. I have a wife. Children. A family. Friends. Connections to people in my life. Their needs and mine do not require me to say no, they just require me to be human.

So basically what I’m saying is that you can’t make things this simplistic when it comes to your goals, because goals populate reality in ways you can’t even imagine, exactly how one root can start a forest.

Also, you cannot predict how your goals will unfold, and that’s all the fun.

Goals are Roots to a Forest

I’m not a huge fan of questions like this, which is why I decided to answer this specific daily writing prompt. A question like this oversimplifies the complexities of life and all its many forces that are thrown at you. I just don’t agree with reducing down a yes or no when it comes to your goals. As if you were simply flipping on a light switch when it reflects making decisions and how they correlate to your goals.

That’s not how dreams and goals actually function in our fragile reality.

We have a bit of a dream/goal issue in our society. We sort of look at them as single-lane highway firing off into some yellow rock wasteland. You can only go in one direction. The hustle. The grind. All those bits of vernacular from the social media monster of a zeitgeist. They’re all masks over shadows. With goals and dreams, if you get off this road of destiny, I feel shame and guilt for sometimes being limited as a freaking human being.

Wants, needs, desires, rest, self-care, there is this certain cloud of shame that surrounds you if you’re not relentlessly pursuing your goals.

I understand passion. Drive. All those buzzwords. I have passion in spades. My god, I’ve gone back and forth on traditional publishing, and self-publishing so many times. Sometimes between decades. I’ve been trying to figure out which direction to go. My overarching goal is the same though as I execute this fluid state. I want to get my voice out there. I want to be seen. I want to tell stories about monsters, and their complexities in various mediums.

These are all different branches, forests, and pathways from the same root.

And that is okay. Your dreams, or for the sake of this question, your goals, don’t have to flow in one direction. We are not a one lane highway. Goals can spread out, find different homes, and adapt to what is echoing in your personal life. Because yes, I would say I’m living my dream by pursuing writing and my monster fascination, but also I want a personal life, and that requires me to be human, and have human needs. I have a wife. Children. A family. Friends. Connections to people in my life. Their needs and mine do not require me to say no, they just require me to be human.

So basically what I’m saying is that you can’t make things this simplistic when it comes to your goals, because goals populate reality in ways you can’t even imagine, exactly how one root can start a forest.

Also, you cannot predict how your goals will unfold, and that’s all the fun.

Bonus Free Book for March

Exactly as the post title says, I have a free bonus book for this weekend. It is my favorite novel (alas not my most popular) Beware the Ills, which is FREE today and tomorrow on the Kindle. I have been sharing this novel in chunks the last year, which you can read right here, but if you’re dying to finish it, just get the book. Dark fantasy, steampunk, weird POV, giant sword fights, cannibal monster guy, pet sasquatch, etc.

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Hit it here to get Beware the Ills for FREE on the Kindle Today and Tomorrow

Bonus Free Book for March

Exactly as the post title says, I have a free bonus book for this weekend. It is my favorite novel (alas not my most popular) Beware the Ills, which is FREE today and tomorrow on the Kindle. I have been sharing this novel in chunks the last year, which you can read right here, but if you’re dying to finish it, just get the book. Dark fantasy, steampunk, weird POV, giant sword fights, cannibal monster guy, pet sasquatch, etc.

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Hit it here to get Beware the Ills for FREE on the Kindle Today and Tomorrow

Bonus Free Book for March

Exactly as the post title says, I have a free bonus book for this weekend. It is my favorite novel (alas not my most popular) Beware the Ills, which is FREE today and tomorrow on the Kindle. I have been sharing this novel in chunks the last year, which you can read right here, but if you’re dying to finish it, just get the book. Dark fantasy, steampunk, weird POV, giant sword fights, cannibal monster guy, pet sasquatch, etc.

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Hit it here to get Beware the Ills for FREE on the Kindle Today and Tomorrow

Bonus Free Book for March

Exactly as the post title says, I have a free bonus book for this weekend. It is my favorite novel (alas not my most popular) Beware the Ills, which is FREE today and tomorrow on the Kindle. I have been sharing this novel in chunks the last year, which you can read right here, but if you’re dying to finish it, just get the book. Dark fantasy, steampunk, weird POV, giant sword fights, cannibal monster guy, pet sasquatch, etc.

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Hit it here to get Beware the Ills for FREE on the Kindle Today and Tomorrow

Bonus Free Book for March

Exactly as the post title says, I have a free bonus book for this weekend. It is my favorite novel (alas not my most popular) Beware the Ills, which is FREE today and tomorrow on the Kindle. I have been sharing this novel in chunks the last year, which you can read right here, but if you’re dying to finish it, just get the book. Dark fantasy, steampunk, weird POV, giant sword fights, cannibal monster guy, pet sasquatch, etc.

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Hit it here to get Beware the Ills for FREE on the Kindle Today and Tomorrow

I Understand

I felt like this could go a bunch of different directions.

There are compliments I’ve received from friends, readers, editors, lovers, my children, and family through the years. For all of those I am grateful, and certainly not always deserving of them. Some compliments of course mean a ton to me, and I have thought about them often, especially in dark moments that have weighed me down. I’ve even screenshot or wrote them down for me to revisit when the fog of negativity has surrounded my mind, eating away at all corners of my mind.

Man, depression is a beast with a thousand faces and arms.

Those soul-saving compliments mean a lot of me, and my choice for this writing prompt isn’t me throwing shade on them, or diminishing their roles in my life. I just wanted to find something simple, but sort of universal for life when it comes to compliments. Something you could both give a stranger or loved one. A sort of fix all compliment with typically low impressions but with high stakes.

I settled on: I understand.

It’s not flashy. It’s not sexy. It isn’t something you’d write at the bottom of a Valentine’s Day card.

So many of us struggle to get seen in life, much less accepted for who we are. My god, I write about monsters to be seen. Having someone, in whatever capacity say “I understand,” is an allusion to that feeling of being seen. A wavelength of being human is seen. Have you noticed when you’re having conflict and someone pulls out the “I understand,” and how much that deescalates the situation? It is almost a magic bullet.

However, don’t say it unless you mean it. I guess a comp to that would be don’t say “I love you,” unless you really mean it. Don’t say you understand someone, but not actually do. There is weight to the compliment, especially with the more complex, personal situations. Understanding has a sense of memory. You can build a relationship with a person when you say it, even if they’re a stranger or your estranged father. When you say I understand you’re trying to match up with their humanity. Aligning things just right for a simple second of connection.

It makes you feel like you’re not alone, whether it is in life, or in your perspective. Also, even though I do believe some POV’s are not understandable, especially in a casual setting, but learning to understand people tends to stimulate self-growth. You learn more from understanding than not. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been telling my wife vulnerable things and she has said this to me in one form or another.

Again, I believe that many of us are struggling to be seen and understood. Life is complicated. It can be an amazing compliment when someone simply tries to understand you.

I Understand

I felt like this could go a bunch of different directions.

There are compliments I’ve received from friends, readers, editors, lovers, my children, and family through the years. For all of those I am grateful, and certainly not always deserving of them. Some compliments of course mean a ton to me, and I have thought about them often, especially in dark moments that have weighed me down. I’ve even screenshot or wrote them down for me to revisit when the fog of negativity has surrounded my mind, eating away at all corners of my mind.

Man, depression is a beast with a thousand faces and arms.

Those soul-saving compliments mean a lot of me, and my choice for this writing prompt isn’t me throwing shade on them, or diminishing their roles in my life. I just wanted to find something simple, but sort of universal for life when it comes to compliments. Something you could both give a stranger or loved one. A sort of fix all compliment with typically low impressions but with high stakes.

I settled on: I understand.

It’s not flashy. It’s not sexy. It isn’t something you’d write at the bottom of a Valentine’s Day card.

So many of us struggle to get seen in life, much less accepted for who we are. My god, I write about monsters to be seen. Having someone, in whatever capacity say “I understand,” is an allusion to that feeling of being seen. A wavelength of being human is seen. Have you noticed when you’re having conflict and someone pulls out the “I understand,” and how much that deescalates the situation? It is almost a magic bullet.

However, don’t say it unless you mean it. I guess a comp to that would be don’t say “I love you,” unless you really mean it. Don’t say you understand someone, but not actually do. There is weight to the compliment, especially with the more complex, personal situations. Understanding has a sense of memory. You can build a relationship with a person when you say it, even if they’re a stranger or your estranged father. When you say I understand you’re trying to match up with their humanity. Aligning things just right for a simple second of connection.

It makes you feel like you’re not alone, whether it is in life, or in your perspective. Also, even though I do believe some POV’s are not understandable, especially in a casual setting, but learning to understand people tends to stimulate self-growth. You learn more from understanding than not. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been telling my wife vulnerable things and she has said this to me in one form or another.

Again, I believe that many of us are struggling to be seen and understood. Life is complicated. It can be an amazing compliment when someone simply tries to understand you.

March Free Book Giveaway

It is a purely Greenland Diaries theme book giveaway for this March. Today and tomorrow (March 14th and 15th), the first three books in my apocalyptic horror series are free on the Kindle. These books are part of a relaunch of the series with new edits, revisions, and polishings. It is the perfect time to get invested in this collection. Plus, I will have a new Greenland Diaries book coming out this summer entitled the Unnamed. It is a giant collection of short stories separate from the main narrative, but sharing the same universe. More details forthcoming. Until then, enjoy the free books below.

“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.” The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 1 – 100 for FREE on the Kindle

The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.All errors have been left intact in the effort to preserve historical authenticity. If you have any information about these diaries, please contact your closest bureau to speak to a representative.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 101 – 140 for FREE on the Kindle

“They come for me at night. I will not outrun them. We can’t fight them every drum. They need to stop. They need to get away from me. I can’t keep fighting what I don’t see. When will it stop? There are faceless monsters in the night. There are faceless monsters in the day. People sewn together from dead parts like old clothes. I don’t understand it. Someone please help me.”

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 141 – 200 for FREE on the Kindle

March Free Book Giveaway

It is a purely Greenland Diaries theme book giveaway for this March. Today and tomorrow (March 14th and 15th), the first three books in my apocalyptic horror series are free on the Kindle. These books are part of a relaunch of the series with new edits, revisions, and polishings. It is the perfect time to get invested in this collection. Plus, I will have a new Greenland Diaries book coming out this summer entitled the Unnamed. It is a giant collection of short stories separate from the main narrative, but sharing the same universe. More details forthcoming. Until then, enjoy the free books below.

“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.” The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 1 – 100 for FREE on the Kindle

The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.All errors have been left intact in the effort to preserve historical authenticity. If you have any information about these diaries, please contact your closest bureau to speak to a representative.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 101 – 140 for FREE on the Kindle

“They come for me at night. I will not outrun them. We can’t fight them every drum. They need to stop. They need to get away from me. I can’t keep fighting what I don’t see. When will it stop? There are faceless monsters in the night. There are faceless monsters in the day. People sewn together from dead parts like old clothes. I don’t understand it. Someone please help me.”

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 141 – 200 for FREE on the Kindle

March Free Book Giveaway

It is a purely Greenland Diaries theme book giveaway for this March. Today and tomorrow (March 14th and 15th), the first three books in my apocalyptic horror series are free on the Kindle. These books are part of a relaunch of the series with new edits, revisions, and polishings. It is the perfect time to get invested in this collection. Plus, I will have a new Greenland Diaries book coming out this summer entitled the Unnamed. It is a giant collection of short stories separate from the main narrative, but sharing the same universe. More details forthcoming. Until then, enjoy the free books below.

“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.” The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 1 – 100 for FREE on the Kindle

The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.All errors have been left intact in the effort to preserve historical authenticity. If you have any information about these diaries, please contact your closest bureau to speak to a representative.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 101 – 140 for FREE on the Kindle

“They come for me at night. I will not outrun them. We can’t fight them every drum. They need to stop. They need to get away from me. I can’t keep fighting what I don’t see. When will it stop? There are faceless monsters in the night. There are faceless monsters in the day. People sewn together from dead parts like old clothes. I don’t understand it. Someone please help me.”

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 141 – 200 for FREE on the Kindle

March Free Book Giveaway

It is a purely Greenland Diaries theme book giveaway for this March. Today and tomorrow (March 14th and 15th), the first three books in my apocalyptic horror series are free on the Kindle. These books are part of a relaunch of the series with new edits, revisions, and polishings. It is the perfect time to get invested in this collection. Plus, I will have a new Greenland Diaries book coming out this summer entitled the Unnamed. It is a giant collection of short stories separate from the main narrative, but sharing the same universe. More details forthcoming. Until then, enjoy the free books below.

“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.” The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 1 – 100 for FREE on the Kindle

The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.All errors have been left intact in the effort to preserve historical authenticity. If you have any information about these diaries, please contact your closest bureau to speak to a representative.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 101 – 140 for FREE on the Kindle

“They come for me at night. I will not outrun them. We can’t fight them every drum. They need to stop. They need to get away from me. I can’t keep fighting what I don’t see. When will it stop? There are faceless monsters in the night. There are faceless monsters in the day. People sewn together from dead parts like old clothes. I don’t understand it. Someone please help me.”

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 141 – 200 for FREE on the Kindle

March Free Book Giveaway

It is a purely Greenland Diaries theme book giveaway for this March. Today and tomorrow (March 14th and 15th), the first three books in my apocalyptic horror series are free on the Kindle. These books are part of a relaunch of the series with new edits, revisions, and polishings. It is the perfect time to get invested in this collection. Plus, I will have a new Greenland Diaries book coming out this summer entitled the Unnamed. It is a giant collection of short stories separate from the main narrative, but sharing the same universe. More details forthcoming. Until then, enjoy the free books below.

“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.” The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 1 – 100 for FREE on the Kindle

The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.All errors have been left intact in the effort to preserve historical authenticity. If you have any information about these diaries, please contact your closest bureau to speak to a representative.

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 101 – 140 for FREE on the Kindle

“They come for me at night. I will not outrun them. We can’t fight them every drum. They need to stop. They need to get away from me. I can’t keep fighting what I don’t see. When will it stop? There are faceless monsters in the night. There are faceless monsters in the day. People sewn together from dead parts like old clothes. I don’t understand it. Someone please help me.”

Click HERE to get the Greenland Diaries: Days 141 – 200 for FREE on the Kindle

Between Karma and Monsters

This is a great question, and it was the most intriguing for me out of all the Daily Writing Prompts for the week. For someone like me, who writes literary horror and often uses monsters as objects of karma or divine justice in certain situations, I think about superstition often. I write in superstition a lot as well, in my settings and plot devices. I rely a lot on fear of the unknown as an object in my writing. Monsters are a great metaphor for this fear.

We are all trying to avoid hardship, and if we can find a somewhat unexplainable pattern or ritual that our certain and specific patterns of behavior might help and suspend pain or trauma, we’re going to seize them. Ironically, in these areas of avoidance, well sometimes that is where monsters themselves fester. Sometimes creating patterns to be safe cause the unresolved pain to outgrow the avoidance. That is another blog post and monster.

Monsters can also be personifications of superstition. Some were born directly from them from various cultures and their mythologies. I have always found this lore intriguing. That being said, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily superstitious, but I do believe in some perhaps related forces. The chief one being karma.

I for certain believe in karma. Whether it is something I have observed, or been judged upon, the universe has a way of remembering things and spinning them back at you. In my own life, for all the stupid and selfish mistakes I have made (and there have been plenty), if I ever refuse to take ownership over them, well, life, the universe, existence, and karma has done a more than adequate job of pointing out my misdeeds. Sometimes I feel like the mole in Whack-A-Mole, and karma has been the mallet whacking me whenever I emerge.

I’m hardly alone in that metaphor. I don’t challenge karma or the threads of justice that layer through the unseen world. Everything catches up with you. I suppose that is my biggest superstition. Granted, I don’t like breaking mirrors. It feels so unnatural.

One thing about karma that I think is interesting, is that time itself functions as karma. It makes negative or toxic behavior fester which causes bad outcomes to multiply. At least that’s my belief. Also, I think one thing I like to explore as a writer of monsters is that superstitions are given life, identity, and meaning, without any consent. This is easy to replicate with monsters in storytelling. Also, I don’t like walking under ladders.

Maybe I am superstitious.

Between Karma and Monsters

This is a great question, and it was the most intriguing for me out of all the Daily Writing Prompts for the week. For someone like me, who writes literary horror and often uses monsters as objects of karma or divine justice in certain situations, I think about superstition often. I write in superstition a lot as well, in my settings and plot devices. I rely a lot on fear of the unknown as an object in my writing. Monsters are a great metaphor for this fear.

We are all trying to avoid hardship, and if we can find a somewhat unexplainable pattern or ritual that our certain and specific patterns of behavior might help and suspend pain or trauma, we’re going to seize them. Ironically, in these areas of avoidance, well sometimes that is where monsters themselves fester. Sometimes creating patterns to be safe cause the unresolved pain to outgrow the avoidance. That is another blog post and monster.

Monsters can also be personifications of superstition. Some were born directly from them from various cultures and their mythologies. I have always found this lore intriguing. That being said, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily superstitious, but I do believe in some perhaps related forces. The chief one being karma.

I for certain believe in karma. Whether it is something I have observed, or been judged upon, the universe has a way of remembering things and spinning them back at you. In my own life, for all the stupid and selfish mistakes I have made (and there have been plenty), if I ever refuse to take ownership over them, well, life, the universe, existence, and karma has done a more than adequate job of pointing out my misdeeds. Sometimes I feel like the mole in Whack-A-Mole, and karma has been the mallet whacking me whenever I emerge.

I’m hardly alone in that metaphor. I don’t challenge karma or the threads of justice that layer through the unseen world. Everything catches up with you. I suppose that is my biggest superstition. Granted, I don’t like breaking mirrors. It feels so unnatural.

One thing about karma that I think is interesting, is that time itself functions as karma. It makes negative or toxic behavior fester which causes bad outcomes to multiply. At least that’s my belief. Also, I think one thing I like to explore as a writer of monsters is that superstitions are given life, identity, and meaning, without any consent. This is easy to replicate with monsters in storytelling. Also, I don’t like walking under ladders.

Maybe I am superstitious.

Between Karma and Monsters

This is a great question, and it was the most intriguing for me out of all the Daily Writing Prompts for the week. For someone like me, who writes literary horror and often uses monsters as objects of karma or divine justice in certain situations, I think about superstition often. I write in superstition a lot as well, in my settings and plot devices. I rely a lot on fear of the unknown as an object in my writing. Monsters are a great metaphor for this fear.

We are all trying to avoid hardship, and if we can find a somewhat unexplainable pattern or ritual that our certain and specific patterns of behavior might help and suspend pain or trauma, we’re going to seize them. Ironically, in these areas of avoidance, well sometimes that is where monsters themselves fester. Sometimes creating patterns to be safe cause the unresolved pain to outgrow the avoidance. That is another blog post and monster.

Monsters can also be personifications of superstition. Some were born directly from them from various cultures and their mythologies. I have always found this lore intriguing. That being said, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily superstitious, but I do believe in some perhaps related forces. The chief one being karma.

I for certain believe in karma. Whether it is something I have observed, or been judged upon, the universe has a way of remembering things and spinning them back at you. In my own life, for all the stupid and selfish mistakes I have made (and there have been plenty), if I ever refuse to take ownership over them, well, life, the universe, existence, and karma has done a more than adequate job of pointing out my misdeeds. Sometimes I feel like the mole in Whack-A-Mole, and karma has been the mallet whacking me whenever I emerge.

I’m hardly alone in that metaphor. I don’t challenge karma or the threads of justice that layer through the unseen world. Everything catches up with you. I suppose that is my biggest superstition. Granted, I don’t like breaking mirrors. It feels so unnatural.

One thing about karma that I think is interesting, is that time itself functions as karma. It makes negative or toxic behavior fester which causes bad outcomes to multiply. At least that’s my belief. Also, I think one thing I like to explore as a writer of monsters is that superstitions are given life, identity, and meaning, without any consent. This is easy to replicate with monsters in storytelling. Also, I don’t like walking under ladders.

Maybe I am superstitious.

Between Karma and Monsters

This is a great question, and it was the most intriguing for me out of all the Daily Writing Prompts for the week. For someone like me, who writes literary horror and often uses monsters as objects of karma or divine justice in certain situations, I think about superstition often. I write in superstition a lot as well, in my settings and plot devices. I rely a lot on fear of the unknown as an object in my writing. Monsters are a great metaphor for this fear.

We are all trying to avoid hardship, and if we can find a somewhat unexplainable pattern or ritual that our certain and specific patterns of behavior might help and suspend pain or trauma, we’re going to seize them. Ironically, in these areas of avoidance, well sometimes that is where monsters themselves fester. Sometimes creating patterns to be safe cause the unresolved pain to outgrow the avoidance. That is another blog post and monster.

Monsters can also be personifications of superstition. Some were born directly from them from various cultures and their mythologies. I have always found this lore intriguing. That being said, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily superstitious, but I do believe in some perhaps related forces. The chief one being karma.

I for certain believe in karma. Whether it is something I have observed, or been judged upon, the universe has a way of remembering things and spinning them back at you. In my own life, for all the stupid and selfish mistakes I have made (and there have been plenty), if I ever refuse to take ownership over them, well, life, the universe, existence, and karma has done a more than adequate job of pointing out my misdeeds. Sometimes I feel like the mole in Whack-A-Mole, and karma has been the mallet whacking me whenever I emerge.

I’m hardly alone in that metaphor. I don’t challenge karma or the threads of justice that layer through the unseen world. Everything catches up with you. I suppose that is my biggest superstition. Granted, I don’t like breaking mirrors. It feels so unnatural.

One thing about karma that I think is interesting, is that time itself functions as karma. It makes negative or toxic behavior fester which causes bad outcomes to multiply. At least that’s my belief. Also, I think one thing I like to explore as a writer of monsters is that superstitions are given life, identity, and meaning, without any consent. This is easy to replicate with monsters in storytelling. Also, I don’t like walking under ladders.

Maybe I am superstitious.

Between Karma and Monsters

This is a great question, and it was the most intriguing for me out of all the Daily Writing Prompts for the week. For someone like me, who writes literary horror and often uses monsters as objects of karma or divine justice in certain situations, I think about superstition often. I write in superstition a lot as well, in my settings and plot devices. I rely a lot on fear of the unknown as an object in my writing. Monsters are a great metaphor for this fear.

We are all trying to avoid hardship, and if we can find a somewhat unexplainable pattern or ritual that our certain and specific patterns of behavior might help and suspend pain or trauma, we’re going to seize them. Ironically, in these areas of avoidance, well sometimes that is where monsters themselves fester. Sometimes creating patterns to be safe cause the unresolved pain to outgrow the avoidance. That is another blog post and monster.

Monsters can also be personifications of superstition. Some were born directly from them from various cultures and their mythologies. I have always found this lore intriguing. That being said, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily superstitious, but I do believe in some perhaps related forces. The chief one being karma.

I for certain believe in karma. Whether it is something I have observed, or been judged upon, the universe has a way of remembering things and spinning them back at you. In my own life, for all the stupid and selfish mistakes I have made (and there have been plenty), if I ever refuse to take ownership over them, well, life, the universe, existence, and karma has done a more than adequate job of pointing out my misdeeds. Sometimes I feel like the mole in Whack-A-Mole, and karma has been the mallet whacking me whenever I emerge.

I’m hardly alone in that metaphor. I don’t challenge karma or the threads of justice that layer through the unseen world. Everything catches up with you. I suppose that is my biggest superstition. Granted, I don’t like breaking mirrors. It feels so unnatural.

One thing about karma that I think is interesting, is that time itself functions as karma. It makes negative or toxic behavior fester which causes bad outcomes to multiply. At least that’s my belief. Also, I think one thing I like to explore as a writer of monsters is that superstitions are given life, identity, and meaning, without any consent. This is easy to replicate with monsters in storytelling. Also, I don’t like walking under ladders.

Maybe I am superstitious.

Spaces and Gaps (Plus Expedition 33)

I really wanted to have something cool and edgy to share about this writing prompt, but unfortunately mine is pretty mundane. I have self-published quite a few books. Over a dozen of them now. This was a process I learned myself back in 2013. What a different world back then. Amazon didn’t have KDP but CreateSpace. I feel like I could stare at a lake and feed ducks with this observation about time passing.

I have always formatted them in Microsoft word, and because of how the file exports to Amazon’s platform, you need to keep an eye on your spaces and gaps or the whole document will be thrown-off. Recently, I remembered that I could use a setting in Microsoft Word to symbolize all the spaces and gaps throughout the document (ctrl+shift+8) and yeah, that made my writing life significantly easier.

I think it is really easy, especially now that I’m older, to get stuck in habits and structures without challenging yourself. I didn’t necessarily need this setting or formatting tool. Not having it wouldn’t have prevented me from writing. Only oblivion would stop me from writing and releasing books. Learning this has helped editing immensely. Pursuing help or learning, whether it is through knowledge or community, seems to be a fickle spot for me. I know I’m hardly alone in that perspective. In this era of consumerism and vigorous individuality, I almost feel guilty for learning new things, as if I should have known them before I needed to.

The pressure I feel to always eat protein, save money, workout, get steps, read books, and not be on social media (but somehow be on social media to hear these things) rattles my brain. Learning something new isn’t necessarily an adventure with this pressure, but a requirement. Sort of takes the magic out of the whole experience.

I know as I get older and get even more established roots in art, family, and life, it is important to pay attention to what is invented and released. This actually happened with a game recently. I do try and stay up on my media and whatnot, because as a storyteller, you want to see what is being done and released. Plus, I love a good story.

Anyways, Expedition 33 came out, and it was suggested to my wife. She got it for our PS5, and wow, what a game. It has thoroughly changed my life in a way only art could. I absolutely loved it. I’m still playing through it. My wife already beat it once. I’m so happy I tried something new. Expedition 33 is a turn based RPG, and I hadn’t played on of those in at least 15 years. So it is like I’m learning something new, but trying something old?

Spaces and Gaps (Plus Expedition 33)

I really wanted to have something cool and edgy to share about this writing prompt, but unfortunately mine is pretty mundane. I have self-published quite a few books. Over a dozen of them now. This was a process I learned myself back in 2013. What a different world back then. Amazon didn’t have KDP but CreateSpace. I feel like I could stare at a lake and feed ducks with this observation about time passing.

I have always formatted them in Microsoft word, and because of how the file exports to Amazon’s platform, you need to keep an eye on your spaces and gaps or the whole document will be thrown-off. Recently, I remembered that I could use a setting in Microsoft Word to symbolize all the spaces and gaps throughout the document (ctrl+shift+8) and yeah, that made my writing life significantly easier.

I think it is really easy, especially now that I’m older, to get stuck in habits and structures without challenging yourself. I didn’t necessarily need this setting or formatting tool. Not having it wouldn’t have prevented me from writing. Only oblivion would stop me from writing and releasing books. Learning this has helped editing immensely. Pursuing help or learning, whether it is through knowledge or community, seems to be a fickle spot for me. I know I’m hardly alone in that perspective. In this era of consumerism and vigorous individuality, I almost feel guilty for learning new things, as if I should have known them before I needed to.

The pressure I feel to always eat protein, save money, workout, get steps, read books, and not be on social media (but somehow be on social media to hear these things) rattles my brain. Learning something new isn’t necessarily an adventure with this pressure, but a requirement. Sort of takes the magic out of the whole experience.

I know as I get older and get even more established roots in art, family, and life, it is important to pay attention to what is invented and released. This actually happened with a game recently. I do try and stay up on my media and whatnot, because as a storyteller, you want to see what is being done and released. Plus, I love a good story.

Anyways, Expedition 33 came out, and it was suggested to my wife. She got it for our PS5, and wow, what a game. It has thoroughly changed my life in a way only art could. I absolutely loved it. I’m still playing through it. My wife already beat it once. I’m so happy I tried something new. Expedition 33 is a turn based RPG, and I hadn’t played on of those in at least 15 years. So it is like I’m learning something new, but trying something old?

Spaces and Gaps (Plus Expedition 33)

I really wanted to have something cool and edgy to share about this writing prompt, but unfortunately mine is pretty mundane. I have self-published quite a few books. Over a dozen of them now. This was a process I learned myself back in 2013. What a different world back then. Amazon didn’t have KDP but CreateSpace. I feel like I could stare at a lake and feed ducks with this observation about time passing.

I have always formatted them in Microsoft word, and because of how the file exports to Amazon’s platform, you need to keep an eye on your spaces and gaps or the whole document will be thrown-off. Recently, I remembered that I could use a setting in Microsoft Word to symbolize all the spaces and gaps throughout the document (ctrl+shift+8) and yeah, that made my writing life significantly easier.

I think it is really easy, especially now that I’m older, to get stuck in habits and structures without challenging yourself. I didn’t necessarily need this setting or formatting tool. Not having it wouldn’t have prevented me from writing. Only oblivion would stop me from writing and releasing books. Learning this has helped editing immensely. Pursuing help or learning, whether it is through knowledge or community, seems to be a fickle spot for me. I know I’m hardly alone in that perspective. In this era of consumerism and vigorous individuality, I almost feel guilty for learning new things, as if I should have known them before I needed to.

The pressure I feel to always eat protein, save money, workout, get steps, read books, and not be on social media (but somehow be on social media to hear these things) rattles my brain. Learning something new isn’t necessarily an adventure with this pressure, but a requirement. Sort of takes the magic out of the whole experience.

I know as I get older and get even more established roots in art, family, and life, it is important to pay attention to what is invented and released. This actually happened with a game recently. I do try and stay up on my media and whatnot, because as a storyteller, you want to see what is being done and released. Plus, I love a good story.

Anyways, Expedition 33 came out, and it was suggested to my wife. She got it for our PS5, and wow, what a game. It has thoroughly changed my life in a way only art could. I absolutely loved it. I’m still playing through it. My wife already beat it once. I’m so happy I tried something new. Expedition 33 is a turn based RPG, and I hadn’t played on of those in at least 15 years. So it is like I’m learning something new, but trying something old?

Spaces and Gaps (Plus Expedition 33)

I really wanted to have something cool and edgy to share about this writing prompt, but unfortunately mine is pretty mundane. I have self-published quite a few books. Over a dozen of them now. This was a process I learned myself back in 2013. What a different world back then. Amazon didn’t have KDP but CreateSpace. I feel like I could stare at a lake and feed ducks with this observation about time passing.

I have always formatted them in Microsoft word, and because of how the file exports to Amazon’s platform, you need to keep an eye on your spaces and gaps or the whole document will be thrown-off. Recently, I remembered that I could use a setting in Microsoft Word to symbolize all the spaces and gaps throughout the document (ctrl+shift+8) and yeah, that made my writing life significantly easier.

I think it is really easy, especially now that I’m older, to get stuck in habits and structures without challenging yourself. I didn’t necessarily need this setting or formatting tool. Not having it wouldn’t have prevented me from writing. Only oblivion would stop me from writing and releasing books. Learning this has helped editing immensely. Pursuing help or learning, whether it is through knowledge or community, seems to be a fickle spot for me. I know I’m hardly alone in that perspective. In this era of consumerism and vigorous individuality, I almost feel guilty for learning new things, as if I should have known them before I needed to.

The pressure I feel to always eat protein, save money, workout, get steps, read books, and not be on social media (but somehow be on social media to hear these things) rattles my brain. Learning something new isn’t necessarily an adventure with this pressure, but a requirement. Sort of takes the magic out of the whole experience.

I know as I get older and get even more established roots in art, family, and life, it is important to pay attention to what is invented and released. This actually happened with a game recently. I do try and stay up on my media and whatnot, because as a storyteller, you want to see what is being done and released. Plus, I love a good story.

Anyways, Expedition 33 came out, and it was suggested to my wife. She got it for our PS5, and wow, what a game. It has thoroughly changed my life in a way only art could. I absolutely loved it. I’m still playing through it. My wife already beat it once. I’m so happy I tried something new. Expedition 33 is a turn based RPG, and I hadn’t played on of those in at least 15 years. So it is like I’m learning something new, but trying something old?

Spaces and Gaps (Plus Expedition 33)

I really wanted to have something cool and edgy to share about this writing prompt, but unfortunately mine is pretty mundane. I have self-published quite a few books. Over a dozen of them now. This was a process I learned myself back in 2013. What a different world back then. Amazon didn’t have KDP but CreateSpace. I feel like I could stare at a lake and feed ducks with this observation about time passing.

I have always formatted them in Microsoft word, and because of how the file exports to Amazon’s platform, you need to keep an eye on your spaces and gaps or the whole document will be thrown-off. Recently, I remembered that I could use a setting in Microsoft Word to symbolize all the spaces and gaps throughout the document (ctrl+shift+8) and yeah, that made my writing life significantly easier.

I think it is really easy, especially now that I’m older, to get stuck in habits and structures without challenging yourself. I didn’t necessarily need this setting or formatting tool. Not having it wouldn’t have prevented me from writing. Only oblivion would stop me from writing and releasing books. Learning this has helped editing immensely. Pursuing help or learning, whether it is through knowledge or community, seems to be a fickle spot for me. I know I’m hardly alone in that perspective. In this era of consumerism and vigorous individuality, I almost feel guilty for learning new things, as if I should have known them before I needed to.

The pressure I feel to always eat protein, save money, workout, get steps, read books, and not be on social media (but somehow be on social media to hear these things) rattles my brain. Learning something new isn’t necessarily an adventure with this pressure, but a requirement. Sort of takes the magic out of the whole experience.

I know as I get older and get even more established roots in art, family, and life, it is important to pay attention to what is invented and released. This actually happened with a game recently. I do try and stay up on my media and whatnot, because as a storyteller, you want to see what is being done and released. Plus, I love a good story.

Anyways, Expedition 33 came out, and it was suggested to my wife. She got it for our PS5, and wow, what a game. It has thoroughly changed my life in a way only art could. I absolutely loved it. I’m still playing through it. My wife already beat it once. I’m so happy I tried something new. Expedition 33 is a turn based RPG, and I hadn’t played on of those in at least 15 years. So it is like I’m learning something new, but trying something old?

Literary Horror

What do I actually write?

I get this question a lot in my personal life, at conventions, and even when I ship out books at the post office. I have always struggled to answer it because I carried a certain amount of shame around it. That shame came from multiple places. Some of it came from people in my life degrading the things I write about, dismissing them in favor of other genres that better matched their own interests, like nonfiction.

Another source of that negativity is the stigma attached to writing horror. Occasionally, people assume you are dark, weird, disturbed, or antisocial because you write horror. Again, another subverted stereotype for people to be comfortable with their own insecurities. I am relatively simplistic as a man. I like football, working out, hunting, fishing, and gaming. I have a wife, kids, a dog, a minivan, and a favorite brand of paper towel. If you sat down to have a beer with me, you would have no clue about what I write, unless I mentioned it specifically.

I have found it difficult to start conversations saying that I write about faceless monsters reanimating corpses to metaphorically portray a generational abandonment wound.

With my monsters, I have attempted to abandon them countless times in my writing career. I have wanted to be someone else because of the reasons I listed above, and also because many people I respect and admire have nudged me toward giving them up. They have never directly said those words to me, but their actions and opinions often pointed in that direction. I understand they were trying to share what worked for them or how they defined success, but I cannot do it.

I write literary horror.

I did not know that was a genre until I researched it, and I was surprised to find such a clear distinction. However, it is exactly what I write. It is not pulpy, slasher, or even traditionally scary. It is horror, but my voice relies more on literary technique than specific plot mechanics or motifs. Much of my work lives in magical realism, slipstream, and poetic spaces. Monsters are the foundation of my stories.

I use them in multiple ways. They are mirrors for human behavior. Metaphors for sociological issues. Conduits for processing my own personal traumas. Some of the reasons I write this way are clear to me, and others I am still discovering. That is part of the beauty of taking this adventure as a writer. I am learning new things about myself and my style as I continue. I feel very lucky and privileged to be doing it. Literary horror is a specific genre, but using monsters not for shock or spectacle, but to communicate human emotions and lived experiences, is the only way I know how to write.

So the purpose of this random blog post about what I write is simple. I have never really said this out loud or clearly named it before. Maybe that means I am a little more confident in who I am and what I am doing. I have finally accepted this role for myself. Whatever the case, I just wanted to talk about it, so that is what I did on my blog.

Literary Horror

What do I actually write?

I get this question a lot in my personal life, at conventions, and even when I ship out books at the post office. I have always struggled to answer it because I carried a certain amount of shame around it. That shame came from multiple places. Some of it came from people in my life degrading the things I write about, dismissing them in favor of other genres that better matched their own interests, like nonfiction.

Another source of that negativity is the stigma attached to writing horror. Occasionally, people assume you are dark, weird, disturbed, or antisocial because you write horror. Again, another subverted stereotype for people to be comfortable with their own insecurities. I am relatively simplistic as a man. I like football, working out, hunting, fishing, and gaming. I have a wife, kids, a dog, a minivan, and a favorite brand of paper towel. If you sat down to have a beer with me, you would have no clue about what I write, unless I mentioned it specifically.

I have found it difficult to start conversations saying that I write about faceless monsters reanimating corpses to metaphorically portray a generational abandonment wound.

With my monsters, I have attempted to abandon them countless times in my writing career. I have wanted to be someone else because of the reasons I listed above, and also because many people I respect and admire have nudged me toward giving them up. They have never directly said those words to me, but their actions and opinions often pointed in that direction. I understand they were trying to share what worked for them or how they defined success, but I cannot do it.

I write literary horror.

I did not know that was a genre until I researched it, and I was surprised to find such a clear distinction. However, it is exactly what I write. It is not pulpy, slasher, or even traditionally scary. It is horror, but my voice relies more on literary technique than specific plot mechanics or motifs. Much of my work lives in magical realism, slipstream, and poetic spaces. Monsters are the foundation of my stories.

I use them in multiple ways. They are mirrors for human behavior. Metaphors for sociological issues. Conduits for processing my own personal traumas. Some of the reasons I write this way are clear to me, and others I am still discovering. That is part of the beauty of taking this adventure as a writer. I am learning new things about myself and my style as I continue. I feel very lucky and privileged to be doing it. Literary horror is a specific genre, but using monsters not for shock or spectacle, but to communicate human emotions and lived experiences, is the only way I know how to write.

So the purpose of this random blog post about what I write is simple. I have never really said this out loud or clearly named it before. Maybe that means I am a little more confident in who I am and what I am doing. I have finally accepted this role for myself. Whatever the case, I just wanted to talk about it, so that is what I did on my blog.

Literary Horror

What do I actually write?

I get this question a lot in my personal life, at conventions, and even when I ship out books at the post office. I have always struggled to answer it because I carried a certain amount of shame around it. That shame came from multiple places. Some of it came from people in my life degrading the things I write about, dismissing them in favor of other genres that better matched their own interests, like nonfiction.

Another source of that negativity is the stigma attached to writing horror. Occasionally, people assume you are dark, weird, disturbed, or antisocial because you write horror. Again, another subverted stereotype for people to be comfortable with their own insecurities. I am relatively simplistic as a man. I like football, working out, hunting, fishing, and gaming. I have a wife, kids, a dog, a minivan, and a favorite brand of paper towel. If you sat down to have a beer with me, you would have no clue about what I write, unless I mentioned it specifically.

I have found it difficult to start conversations saying that I write about faceless monsters reanimating corpses to metaphorically portray a generational abandonment wound.

With my monsters, I have attempted to abandon them countless times in my writing career. I have wanted to be someone else because of the reasons I listed above, and also because many people I respect and admire have nudged me toward giving them up. They have never directly said those words to me, but their actions and opinions often pointed in that direction. I understand they were trying to share what worked for them or how they defined success, but I cannot do it.

I write literary horror.

I did not know that was a genre until I researched it, and I was surprised to find such a clear distinction. However, it is exactly what I write. It is not pulpy, slasher, or even traditionally scary. It is horror, but my voice relies more on literary technique than specific plot mechanics or motifs. Much of my work lives in magical realism, slipstream, and poetic spaces. Monsters are the foundation of my stories.

I use them in multiple ways. They are mirrors for human behavior. Metaphors for sociological issues. Conduits for processing my own personal traumas. Some of the reasons I write this way are clear to me, and others I am still discovering. That is part of the beauty of taking this adventure as a writer. I am learning new things about myself and my style as I continue. I feel very lucky and privileged to be doing it. Literary horror is a specific genre, but using monsters not for shock or spectacle, but to communicate human emotions and lived experiences, is the only way I know how to write.

So the purpose of this random blog post about what I write is simple. I have never really said this out loud or clearly named it before. Maybe that means I am a little more confident in who I am and what I am doing. I have finally accepted this role for myself. Whatever the case, I just wanted to talk about it, so that is what I did on my blog.

Literary Horror

What do I actually write?

I get this question a lot in my personal life, at conventions, and even when I ship out books at the post office. I have always struggled to answer it because I carried a certain amount of shame around it. That shame came from multiple places. Some of it came from people in my life degrading the things I write about, dismissing them in favor of other genres that better matched their own interests, like nonfiction.

Another source of that negativity is the stigma attached to writing horror. Occasionally, people assume you are dark, weird, disturbed, or antisocial because you write horror. Again, another subverted stereotype for people to be comfortable with their own insecurities. I am relatively simplistic as a man. I like football, working out, hunting, fishing, and gaming. I have a wife, kids, a dog, a minivan, and a favorite brand of paper towel. If you sat down to have a beer with me, you would have no clue about what I write, unless I mentioned it specifically.

I have found it difficult to start conversations saying that I write about faceless monsters reanimating corpses to metaphorically portray a generational abandonment wound.

With my monsters, I have attempted to abandon them countless times in my writing career. I have wanted to be someone else because of the reasons I listed above, and also because many people I respect and admire have nudged me toward giving them up. They have never directly said those words to me, but their actions and opinions often pointed in that direction. I understand they were trying to share what worked for them or how they defined success, but I cannot do it.

I write literary horror.

I did not know that was a genre until I researched it, and I was surprised to find such a clear distinction. However, it is exactly what I write. It is not pulpy, slasher, or even traditionally scary. It is horror, but my voice relies more on literary technique than specific plot mechanics or motifs. Much of my work lives in magical realism, slipstream, and poetic spaces. Monsters are the foundation of my stories.

I use them in multiple ways. They are mirrors for human behavior. Metaphors for sociological issues. Conduits for processing my own personal traumas. Some of the reasons I write this way are clear to me, and others I am still discovering. That is part of the beauty of taking this adventure as a writer. I am learning new things about myself and my style as I continue. I feel very lucky and privileged to be doing it. Literary horror is a specific genre, but using monsters not for shock or spectacle, but to communicate human emotions and lived experiences, is the only way I know how to write.

So the purpose of this random blog post about what I write is simple. I have never really said this out loud or clearly named it before. Maybe that means I am a little more confident in who I am and what I am doing. I have finally accepted this role for myself. Whatever the case, I just wanted to talk about it, so that is what I did on my blog.

February Book Giveaway

For this month’s book giveaway I’m leaning away from my post apocalyptic book series, and focusing more on science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Below are two short story collections, plus my dark fantasy steampunk novel. All three of these books are FREE on the Kindle today through Monday. Descriptions and links below:

An ancient werewolf laments his annual, blood-soaked pilgrimage. A doll comes to life only when your fear gives it motivation. Empty spaces are a feeding ground for an ancient monster. A mother dragon will fight through anything for her stolen future. After a random tragedy at the hands of a flying nightmare, a sky pirate visits a haunted grave. A demon followed across a continent, pauses for a very human vanity. Robots in an apocalyptic hellscape need a purpose, even if there is no one to witness it. Mysterious gravestones and highways twist the ordinary into hells for a pair of friends and family. A young woman laments her true, mystical identity in the waves of a stormy sea.

Click here to get Monsters, Monsters, Everywhere for free

For the last 30 years he has been the sole protector of the legendary Diamond Town. Every hour it snows, howls, and storms. Every week, wave after wave of invaders crawl through the woods scouring for a bit of fame and glory on this lost island — and he cuts them all down with indiscriminate slashes of his sword. No one has survived being the Guardian as long as him, and the shadows are seething with vengeance in the forests and mountains. A vengeful cannibal from a lost invasion, ancient beasts stalking about the mountains waiting to attack, and a fresh new batch of invaders with a beautiful berserker and emotionless captain are just a few of the festering plagues on this cursed island. There will be no respite. There will be no end to the war and strife. The winters are growing longer, the cold harsher, and the enemies bolder. Take a walk in the footsteps of the Diamond Town’s Guardian and his world, through his own blood-weary eyes. Count your footsteps and mind the silence, it’s time to hunt, and to fill the graveyard again.

Click here to get Beware the Ills for free

A collection of short stories from a variety of worlds.

During the Greenland Diaries, in the shadow of an apocalypse, a survivor awakens with no identity or hope. He only knows that the monsters worship him, and want to keep him safe. Off the coast of Key Largo, a group of survivors stumbles through survival in the wake of the drum. The scared live and the ambitious die. So is the reality of the drum.

On the Cursed Island, a new assassin appears on the blood-soaked shore. Their goal, to infiltrate the Diamond Town and battle the freshly appointed Guardian, who despite the weight of the sword, can still remember her name. For now.

In the dark cloud of Hidden Oaks Park; a woman’s dead husband stirs to life, a grocery store devours a young man, and a playground appears and disappears overnight. It all flows according to the monster living in its otherworldly center.

Two brothers hide in an abandoned robotics factory after radiation and monsters have ravaged their world. They find an unlikely ally, and search for a bit of hope beneath the nuclear snow and forgotten sun.

Click here to get Leave the Name for free