Creep Me Not: Reader/Writer Relationship

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creeper from Scoobie DooYou might not have noticed, but the world is shrinking. Along with it, the gap between the almighty, worshipped writer and his/her adoring fans. (Or in my case, the fictional minions in my mind. Quiet, you! I’m writing.)

All joking aside, this is a serious issue on par with intermittent high-speed internet and trichinosis (whatever that is). With big publishers fading and book stores going belly up, more writers are pushing their wares directly to readers and more readers are getting their proverbial milk from the literary teat.

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Fistful of Reefer: ch.1

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Cantinas on either side of the border fascinated Chancho—such important frivolousness. He cupped his shot of tequila, a Reposado rested in American oak, in the palm of his hand while listening to a collision of conversations. Not particularly fond of enclosed spaces, he shut his eyes.   Slurred English came from the direction of the … Read more Fistful of Reefer: ch.1

Sippy Cups and Carpet

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sippy cupThey say necessity is the mother of invention. I say stupidity is the father. Sure, war has produced many of humanities greatest and worst inventions. But couldn’t we have avoided most of these wars in the first place if humanity didn’t consist of 48% numb-nuts and 37% dill-weeds? (statistics may not represent actual data).

Where would Marie Curie’s discovery of polonium and radium actually gotten us without the Manhattan Project? And if Ben Franklin hadn’t excepted the drunken, double-dog dare to tie a key to a kite? But where am I going with this? Sippy cups and carpet.

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