Whaddaya MEAN You've Never Heard of Me?!?

One time, my electric toothbrush battery died. Instead of just brushing analog like a normal person, I stood there frozen--wondering how on earth I was gonna brush my teeth that day. I had to go to work! I couldn't NOT brush them...
This went down in history as my most absurdly absent-minded life events ever. Not a big deal, just a "holy crap, that was dumb" situation.

Today, my friends, I think I beat it.

We get tons of packages because of Amazon. We also get our groceries from there (well, 70% of them or so), plus I get a Box of Dread every month. So yeah, we're pretty packagey.
Today I got four packages, one of which was really super heavy.
The others were all Amazon stuff for review: some socks, another spy camera, another disco light, some really cool playing cards...like that. The heavy package was USPS priority mail. It was quite heavy and there was stuff moving around loose inside (not alive, but I feared breakage). I couldn't imagine what it could be, or even who it was from. I looked...but didn't know the person.
Turns out, the address label was sort of wonky, but the package wasn't even for me.

Since that bitch upstairs moved out, I don't actually know the names of any of our current neighbors. *pause to consider how sad that is* I got dressed and thought I'd try to figure it out. I walk into the hall, and look at the package again. It's addressed to, if you'll pardon the expression, a foreign-sounding name I couldn't begin to place with a nationality or region. But the cut off address was like [numbers Street, apartment numbe] But on the next line in a different font, it said R4.
Ah, I reasoned. This must be for apartment four.
Which one would that be...Hmmm.
The apartment across from me is #1, so I know it's not them. (if you've been to my place, you might already be laughing here. If not, fear not. Imma let me finish.)
I go down to the end of the hall...to see apartments #2 and #3. Wait, where are the people for the package? This makes no sense. Suddenly I can't even find Apartment 4. This is the dumbest thing ever. Who designed this stupid building anyway? I hate it here!
Still carrying the heavy package, I got back to my apartment...
...where I am reminded that WE are Apartment 4.

Oh FFS...

Anyway, I left the package by the mailboxes. I have even less idea who it might be for now.

As many of you know, I've been blogging at Livejournal since 2002. When they sold their site to Russians who gave far less control over content, I started blogging at Dreamwidth and cross posting to LJ instead. I've always continued to read at both places, and to make sure my own posts make it there.

I have a pet conspiracy theory about Russia and our internet. It's one that seems increasingly true the more things happen in the world with President Cyka.  It seems super obvious to me that this Syria bombing is 100% fuckery to make us stop questioning DJT's many Russian connections.  And just like every time he gives a speech where he doesn't manage to sound like a sundowning mental patient...the media can't shut up about how "presidential" he's being.  STOP BEING FOOLED.

Even if he was being super Presidential, bombing some random base and killing civilians isn't going to make Assad suddenly be cooler to his own people.  Maybe if we were going to kill Assad or swoop in and take his Sarin and shit, that might make sense.  But we're not doing that.  We're shooting missiles that are killing civilians--in order to demonstrate how fucking awful it is to kill civilians.  And before anyone gives me that shit about how war has casualties, I'll remind you all that once again, we have not declared war.  As usual, we just started shooting shit up and daring the rest of the world to either join in or stop us.  And because most of the rest of the world aren't the buttinski's that we are, they don't.

Anyway...
I went over to Livejournal today to take down my account.  See, any digital info that's stored outside the US can legally be given to the CIA without any sort of authorization. So when I got a notice saying that there's a new TOS, I did not agree.  They also have a policy against "political solicitation."  I'm not 100% on what political solicitation involves, but I'm reasonably sure that I engage in it.  Even if I didn't, I'd prefer to have at least the semblance of privacy as I cling to the idea that no government agency is interested in what I'm getting up to online.  

My plan was absolutely to take my entire account down.  But in order to do that, I have to agree to the new TOS.  I do not agree, and I'm not about to say that I do.  If I agree, doesn't that mean they can keep a copy of all my old blogs?  But if I don't do anything, they already have my old blogs.  Presuming a reality where I've said things that would make Putin mad (like say, I do not like POTUS45 and think he's a lying cyka), I'd just as soon live in a world where that doesn't put me in danger.  I order a lot of delivery food, so poisoning me would be pretty easy.

And you know that guy loves to poison people.

For now, I'm not doing anything and will try to continue crossposting there.  Not sure if they'll let me though.  When I said "not now" to the new TOS, the only choice they gave me was "Log Out."  Pretty scary what happens inside of just a few years, right?  

It's well-known by all literate people that I am not a fan of the Great Orange Cyka-Elect. (Look it up, it's a Russian word, and it's hilarious) But now, he has reached the subjective and fabled land of TOO FAR.

On December 14th, I asserted copyright over the word "Unpresidented." The context was the vain hope that the Electoral College would do what it was designed to do--rescue us from a Nazi-enabling rapist who's already in bed with the Russians. They didn't. Of course there are great arguments on both sides of this, none of which I'm going to detail here.
Because that's not the point of this post.

The point is that Drumpf stole my word. Funny, since I rarely consider myself rich enough to rob. His stupid misspelled Tweet that inadvertently turned MY word into a hashtag has stolen my internet thunder, hasn't it? Okay, no it probably hasn't. It's still hilarious though. I should probably just be happy that he didn't put my beautiful word in the same Tweet as a white supremacist or a lady unfavorably rated with Drumpf's numeric system that lets us all know which chicks he'd sexually assault if there were no cameras. But I digress.

"Unpresidented" is my word. My word. Mine! Down down, go go, mine. *jumps up and down like Daffy Duck during a tantrum*

Besides, once Drumpf is impeached or resigns in a huff because some high school newspaper criticized his latest racist speech--we can all use the word "Unpresidented" again. Hope to see you all then. ;-)

As most of you know, we lost our battle with Nightmare Client's bank, and he robbed us of almost $3,000 (plus fees). Later, he had some rented legal firm send us a hilarious "cease and desist" that suggests that I posted a bunch of bad Amazon reviews on his terrible book (which would be absolutely legal for me to do, though I didn't do that). Losing the money was a drag, but not ruinous to us thanks to everyone having our backs. I still think it's some bullshit that we weren't even allowed to talk to the people at NC's bank. PayPal purportedly argued for us, but we have no idea what happened or what was said. Even more than the money, it bites that NC actually gets to walk away thinking he was vindicated. The bank didn't remotely get the full story.

Anyway...I learned recently that Alex Nouri (that's Nightmare Client's name, BTW. I see no more reason not to release it) has pulled the same fuckery with another freelancer. From what I can tell, it was the same bullshit that happened with us. Incessant Emails and phone calls, demanding near constant attention, pretending that not hearing back within the hour is "unprofessional." Shit like that. All the while, this ass professes to be "patient" and "understanding." I'm pretty sure he's a drunk, and he seems to have some mental health issues as well. So when the freelancer has finally had enough and walks away, the chargebacks begin even though the work is done. That's also when the bizarre accusations start.

You know how some people talk about how they have friends in high places? Apparently NC has friends who are cops, lawyers, bankers, politicians, and more. Yet he can't seem to convince more than one person (who I strongly suspect is him) to leave his book a good review? Nickel, please.

What I want is to blast this jackasses name and history of fuckery to every freelancer known to mankind. I want to make sure no one is EVER taken advantage of by this self-important, ignorant fuckstick again. I'm putting together a list of warning sites for editors, writers, graphic and web designers, and would love it if you all can hip me to the ones you know about or recommend.

Never in my life have I met (let alone worked with) someone so simultaneously ignorant and arrogant. It boggles the mind that he thinks so much of himself while being such a stupid, needy numpty...I need to contact the people of Scotland so I can amass a more appropriate list of insults. ;-) Despite my impressive vocabulary, I really don't have the words to adequately convey my disgust for this preening jackass and his laughable excuse for "writing" as he steals from hardworking freelancers in revenge for not constantly getting his way. (I can't put a live hyperlink in a print book no matter how hard I try, and I can't magically start coding after saying again and again that I don't code).

I'm doing a really, super good job of not freaking the hell out even though at least 3 hatchling centipedes have come out of our bathroom faucet in the last 2 days. I dismissed the first one as a random fluke--at H's behest. That's after screeching like a little girl, obviously.

I am most displeased.
H promises that he is taking care of it, which I guess means purification by fire (my idea) will be a backup plan.

Maintenance around here is usually hardcore weaksauce. But this time something will be done or we will move the hell out of here despite our intense poverty. I'd rather stay at the friggin shelter than deal with venomous insects breeding in our goddamn water supply.

As a horror writer, this is the sort of thing I would never include in a story because it seems cartoonishly horrific. Now that I'm living it though...I might have to.
In the mean time, I'm going to continue my quest for calm.

What I gave:
Balms. Lots and lots of balms. And cards.
H made the cards, as usual.
We got Girl-H a Ravenclaw hoodie, which she loves.
I got H (between his birthday and Xmas)
And Onion Encyclopedia
Face of Boe T-shirt
Andy Capp Hot Fries
Fancy cherry soda syrup
Batman Arkham Asylum for PS3
T-shirt with Futurama heads of famous doctors
Hellblazer anthology 1
A bunch of sour candy and hot peppers.

What I got:
Cookies, more cookies.
Ferdinand the Bull book
Pop Funko Drogon figure
The Walking Dead compendium #2
First season of Bates Motel (DVD)
The Compleat Al (DVD)
Money, with which I bought this:

We got a ton of swell cards, various canned goods and edibles.
H also got me a big hunk of haloumi, which is one of my fave cheeses. You can fry it and it doesn't melt.
Plus I ordered myself the Babadook book, which will arrive this summer.
Dook dook dook.
EDIT: Today I was given a Doctor Who Madlib book and some gourmet candy bars by a little girl I like a whole lot--my goddaughter Evelyn.

Hey kids,

As many of you know, I used to have an interview segment at Zombie Zone News. Picking Brains with Wednesday Lee Friday was a ton of fun, and allowed me to trade Emails with some really cool people. However, an error at the website led to most of those interviews being unavailable to read. The good news? I still have all my interviews, and thought it might be a neat idea to repost them somewhere that they can actually be seen. I have not edited these in any way.
For my own laughs, I decided not to post these in order. Also, the Bear McCreary interview was requested. How can I say no?  Honestly, this was not one of my better interviews because I felt SO far out of my league.  Bear was totes professional and patient with my ignorance. 
So here it is, from March 2011, my interview with composer Bear McCreary:

From Zombie Zone News, March, 2011"



Like most of you, I waited all summer long in anticipation of the premiere of The Walking Dead. I carefully avoided news articles and pics, not wanting even the tiniest spoiler. Open credits begin. Music by Bear McCreary. Cheers! Applause! My Walking Dead party was chock full of BSG devotees, Sarah Connor fans, and Dark Void players. Our already palpable anticipation doubled. We were not disappointed.
Bear McCreary has composed scores for some of the best television of the last ten years including Battlestar Galactica, Sarah Connor Chronicles, Eureka, Caprica, and The Cape. Then there's the movies like Wrong Turn 2, Rest Stop, and BSG Razor. You can, and should, read all about Bear on his website. http://www.bearmccreary.com/
As we all know, the score from Season One of The Walking Dead set the bar for horror television. The banjo work alone is reason enough to buy this soundtrack. Bear's ability to create mood, enhance themes, and elicit emotion, is nothing short of masterful. I was super geeked when Bear agreed to answer some questions just for us.

WLF/ZZN: You were a kid who watched TV and played video games, who grew up to work in TV and video games. Does this affirm that TV and video games are not only good for us, but the road to creative fulfillment?
I think that feature films have utterly lost their monopoly on being cool. When I was a kid, films had a sense of grandeur and scope that TV and especially games didn’t even attempt to match. Nowadays, film is trying to keep up with a quickly evolving landscape. The creative opportunities I’ve found in games and TV have been absolutely remarkable. And while I enjoy working in features too, I only take on the projects that allow me to explore new musical sounds. Basically, I take on projects that are dramatically interesting. I don’t even care if its for a film, TV or a game, as long as it’s fun to work on it.

WLF/ZZN: Please tell us about your relationship with zombies before you signed on to score The Walking Dead.
I’d always been aware of the zombie genre, but it really wasn’t where my passion lied. However, that all changed when I read Kirkman’s comic. I was sucked into the world of these characters, because I loved them so much. And TWD comic is a good crash course for zombie newbies, because it hits so many of the tropes of the genre. From there, it was a hop, skip and a jump to finding all these great films.

WLF/ZZN: How stoked were you to do it?
Pretty f*cking stoked. Can I say that? Maybe I should rephrase: Pretty f*cking excited about it.

WLF/ZZN: Can you share anything about how scoring this series has influenced your own plans or preparation for the zombie apocalypse?
I’m keeping my banjo handy.

WLF/ZZN: You've talked about the concept of Unity in the score for The Walking Dead, and that the leitmotifs intertwine to create one sound. Does the inspiration for these character themes come more from the actor's performances, or from the script?
Honestly, there aren’t really any character themes to speak of. That’s where the unity comes from. Rather than highlighting all the characters’ differences, by giving them each a unique sound, I’m painting them all with a single brush. They come from different backgrounds and have different values, but they’ve all been brought together by this horrific event and their current surroundings.
If anything, the quality of the actor’s performances has allowed me to step back a little musically and accomplish this. The scenes work so well on their own, I can focus more on creating a musical world, rather than working hard on creating specific character arcs. This approach may change in Season 2, of course, but that’s what worked in Season 1.

WLF/ZZN: Does your musically Unifying the human survivors indicate that you are rooting for the humans to win?
Zombies are fun. But, if you’re rooting for the zombies to win it means the characters aren’t connecting and the whole thing is a failure. That’s precisely what makes Kirkman’s source material so fabulous. As a well-versed comic book / horror fan you KNOW people are going to die. But, Damnit, Kirkman makes you love these people anyway.

WLF/ZZN: The banjos in The Walking Dead are even scarier than those from Deliverance. It literally sounds like a zombie is playing. Do you agree then, with the premise of Land of the Dead, that some zombies will retain the musical abilities they had in life?
That’s exactly how I thought about it, even though I think Kirkman / Darabont would disagree. The zombies in TWD really don’t retain their humanity at all. But, that’s how I got Oingo Boingo guitarist Steve Bartek to find the right sound on the banjo. I told him to imagine he was a banjo player who became a zombie and was playing through muscle memory. That really got him in the mood and he created some incredibly terrifying textures.

WLF/ZZN: I haven't heard any accordion in The Walking Dead yet. Did I miss it? When will fans get the accordion they are pining for?
I’ll bet Season 2 finds some.

WLF/ZZN: Speaking of the accordion, I really think you and Weird Al Yankovic should play dueling accordions, maybe for charity? Are you game?
He’d kick my ass.

WLF/ZZN: Are you able to reveal any new instruments you'll be introducing in Season 2? Anything relating to a certain prison, perhaps?
No spoilers on that one, I’m afraid.

WLF/ZZN: Before The Walking Dead, you scored such shows as Caprica, Eureka, The Cape, and the celebrated reimagining of Battlestar Galactica. Was it always your intention to use leitmotifs in Battlestar Galactica, or did that evolve organically?
Quite the opposite. I had strict instruction from the producers to never use any themes at all. But, I couldn’t help it. That’s just where the show was leaning, so I did it anyway hoping no one would notice. Finally, around the end of the first season, the producer said that a scene with Boomer wasn’t quite working. “Can you just bring back that Boomer theme here? I think that will really help.” At that moment, I knew I wouldn’t get fired for using themes.

WLF/ZZN: Felix Gaeta was my favorite BSG character. It was worth suffering through Gaeta's misfortunes just to hear him sing. Can you tell us a bit about how Gaeta's Lament was conceived and incorporated into the show?
It was incorporated into the script that Felix would sing while being operated on. I worked closed with the actor Alessandro Juliani to write a melody in his comfortable vocal range. AJ is a classically trained singer, and has a really beautiful voice. I was stunned working with him. Regrettably, he couldn’t show it off in the series because his character was supposed to be in utter agony. So, he couldn’t sing to his full capacity. Thankfully, we re-recorded it for the Season 4 soundtrack album and he was able to show fans just how serious a singer he is.

WLF/ZZN: Is there anything fans can do to get Caprica back on the air? Facebook revolution? Letter campaign to SyFy? Maybe HBO?
Build a time machine? I’m afraid that ship has long sailed. I miss Caprica. It didn’t get the fulfilling finale that “BSG” had. I will always remember that as one of the more beautiful themes I’ve composed.

WLF/ZZN: I just learned moments ago that The Cape was cancelled, and that the finale would only be aired online. Can you comment on this trend of cancelling innovative, well-produced shows while perpetuating vapid derivative crapfests devoid of anything resembling originality?
It’s an unfortunate reality of the TV business, but not limited to that industry. Bands that don’t go big on their first album don’t get a chance to make a second. In the old days, they had time to evolve a fan base. Queen didn’t take off until their THIRD album. If they were around today, they’d never make it. Similarly, a movie has only opening weekend to prove itself. All you can do is do your best, work on projects you believe in and hope for the best.

WLF/ZZN: The mega-version 8-bit track from the Dark Void theme is awesome. Was that your idea?
That was a bit of a gift, at first. Inafune-San, the creator of “Mega Man,” was a producer on “Dark Void.” So, I made an 8-bit version of the game’s theme in the style of “Mega Man II.” To my surprise, CAPCOM loved it so much, they actually made an 8-bit game to go with it, and I wrote a full score for it. The full orchestral and 8-bit scores of both games are still on iTunes. I love that fans can experience both.

WLF/ZZN: What advice would you offer aspiring composers who want to work in TV and video games?
Do your best work. Treat every project like it matters. Believe in what you’re doing. But, most of all, do this because you love to do it above all else. If there’s something in life you enjoy more than writing music, by all means… do that instead.

WLF/ZZN: Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with us. Is there anything you'd like to say to your many, many fans?
Check out my blog, bearmccreary.com, in the coming weeks for some big announcements. I’ve just released a book of piano sheet music arrangements of “Battlestar Galactica” music. There are soundtrack CDs, concert DVDs and other cool things on the horizon. Thanks and keep on listening!

Found out today that someone I used to know pretty well has started collecting...well, they're calling it "World War II memorabilia." But I think we all know what we're talking about here: Nazi shit. Shit with swastikas on it, death certificates from The Camps.

I don't mind saying that Nazi shit scares the hell out of me. After all, I'm married to a black man who's over six-feet-tall. Michael Moore says people think that's the single scariest kind of person to be. And you know, more and more states are legalizing the murder of black people as long as they're scary. It's all part of the same mindset, as far as I'm concerned. But I digress.
Honestly, this person has always been totally racist and in private, unapologetic about it. But this rises to a whole new level of...I mean, it's a psychopathy, right? There has to be something wrong with anyone who can get into that mindset or think it's something to celebrate, right?

Or is there a non-fucked up reason for a blue collar, non-scholarly person to collect Nazi "memorabilia?" "Memorabilia" is a word for objects that help us fondly remember things from the past. So "Nazi-memorabilia" is really only for crazy people, isn't it?

Even among the unapologetically racist, Nazi shit is considered at least taboo. There are tons of racists who don't admit to being racists, and would be embarrassed to have a swastika in their home--not that they'd ever let a minority in to see it. You know, unless their pool needed cleaning or whatever...

I am just horrified.

After this mornings unpleasantness, I wallowed in my complainy-pants sadness for a few hours.
Then I took a nap.

When I woke up, I had some loving and supportive voicemails, texts, and Emails from friends and family. That was swell, really.

When I went back over to the Barnes & Noble site, the link was up.

Under the Bed: Volume 2 Number 1, bitches!

Undead October is full of awesome zombie stories, some cool editorials, our fanciful Letters to the Editor page, and some sweet art. You should totally think about buying it. If you need a mobi or a pdf, you will be able to get that from our website.

Well...my Why I hate Skyler White article has driven people to the point of madness. I totally got flamed, and I'm pretty sure a few of them were not sock puppets of the main detractor. One person took my thoughts totally personally, and would not let up about what a terrible misogynist I am, how I don't understand emotional abuse, and apparently think *every* battered woman has the ability to just pick up and leave (and not just Skyler, who has an education, support system, and a pallet heaped with cash).
Presumptions about strangers on the internet are amazing.
I find it especially funny because I pretty much put all my personal business right out there for the reading. Anyone who actually cared to get to know me could do so in short order--just by reading what's already posted.

But see...people aren't interested in getting to know you, especially when they're so busy judging you for daring to say something they don't like. I'm surprised they aren't telling my editor to fire me, lest they boycott the site. Ha!
It's funny mainly because we don't get all that much traffic, so the flaming was a big boost to me money-wise.
I later learned that apparently Vince Gilligan said this:
And with the risk of painting with too broad a brush, I think the people who have these issues with the wives being too bitchy on Breaking Bad are misogynists, plain and simple.
Which, I guess, gives douchebags the idea that by calling me a misogynist that they will become Vince Gilligan's best friend or something.

It seems like my editor took it much more personally than I did, because he really tried to defend me and the article--going so far as to write his own rebuttal article. His main point was that while he disagreed with my take on her, that calling me a misogynist is fucking stupid.

To my mind, saying that *I'm* what represents misogyny is an enormous misunderstanding of what feminism and misogyny actually are. That's over and above the fact that I'm about as misogynistic as I am racist, Christian, or homophobic...which is to say, not fucking much by half. You might as well say everyone who likes the show is a fan of both murder and blue meth.

Last night was movie night. We had a small but quality crowd, good food (Curt brought an amazing buffalo chicken dip that I want to bathe in) and a Burgess Meredith double feature. Foul Play followed by The Sentinel. Nice! There is polenta left over that I'll fry up for H, and a goodly amount of pina colada no-bake dealies that have no booze and are delicious.

Tonight is editing stories for the magazine, and maybe watching Savages. Tomorrow, of course, is a million TV shows. Dexter, Breaking Bad, and Newsroom. Woot!

Hey kids,

You know how audiobooks are crazy expensive?
Well...The Finster Effect audiobook is now on sale for $1.99

I know, right?

Get it here.

It really is a super good deal, the kind you should tell people about.
It's usually $25. And I don't think it'll be at this crazy low price for long.

The giant book giveaway is finally over.

I was feeling pretty bad that Kiss Me Like You Love Me only made it to #4 in horror in the US. Then my publisher told me that all the books above me had paid for Amazon promotion, whereas I had not. Amazon promoting is retardedly expensive. I am spending a little money on some ads, but only as much as I can honestly afford. The audiobooks are costing a lot more to produce. Hopefully they will sell well.

Final high numbers are as follows:

US: #4 in Horror #69 in all of Kindle. *snerk*

Canada: #1 in psychological thrillers, #3 in horror

Germany: #3 in psychological thrillers, #5 in horror

Italy: #4 in horror

France: #1 in psychological thrillers, #1 in horror

Despite this, we have no plans to move to France.
Giant thanks to everyone who helped out with shares, encouragement, downloads, shout-outs, likes, and every other type of helping out. I don't make a move without you, Internets.

The remainder of this week will be spent finishing my next article for Kinkly. It's on fat esthetics and how claims of fat people not having awesome sex lives are based on naught but chicanery of the highest order. Don't worry, I'll be using more accessible language.
I'll also be finishing the new Stig & The Puppetman, reviewing a sex toy, and writing TV reviews for the Doctor Who Premiere and Game of Thrones. For the next six weeks, I've got four reviews a week. That's gonna kick my ass in conjunction with all my marketing writing, comics, commission stuff, and everything else.

I'm also gonna make Alton Brown's devils food cake this weekend.
His recipes are always killer awesome.

In other news, I would murder someone for a bag of nacho cheese Doritos. Just to make it easier on us all, that someone can be Rick Santorum.

You didn't forget that Kiss Me Like You Love Me is FREE, did you?

You remembered to tell someone you know about it, right?

You've pointed your readers, followers, fans, family and friends to the excellent Amazon reviews, didn't you?

If not...I really, really, really could use the assist.

I've decided that Election Season is like Christmas, except less often and we split into two distinct diametrically-opposed groups. Wait, I guess that would be like Christmas these days. Anyway, I'm glad/desperately hope that it'll be over tomorrow and that the good guys will pull this one out.



As always, be sure to vote!
Hint: They aren't, in fact, all the same.

It's not a very obscure literary reference, so I'm gonna assume you all know.



So this happened. Finster came in town from Cali just to go to the show. What show, you ask? Jason McCauley Berry and the All Night Fish Market. Back in the day, Finz and I went to these shows endlessly, roughly weekly but sometimes more. If you picture them dark and blurry, it'd look something like this.


It was a time for beer drinking and terrible jobs, hunting for a cool boyfriend and eventually realizing a girl friend would make more sense. A time for drugs and floundering, figuring shit out and wallowing in grand ideas and stupid mistakes. A time for a Heathen Ranch, gazing up longingly at the poverty line, and realizing that I was honest to Zod crazy and needed to do something about it.

Before the gig, there was a BBQ at the new home of my old friend and former Heathen Ranch roommate. A few other friends from that era were there. Newsflash: Having children ages people a LOT. Everybody's still as sexy as ever though. The dude on the far right is Joe, who is Our Narrator in the KMLYLM podcast. I know, right?


Merriment ensued.


My old friend literally lives within walking distance of my mom's house in Royal Oak. We drove right by it on the way to the bar, which was in Ferndale.

H actually got the night off work to come with. Because I asked him to. He hates bars, parties, going out, and being around crowds. He mostly sat at the table watching my bag. I mostly walked around acting like the queen of the castle, puffing the wacky tobacky, drinking tons of water and a few sips of coca cola, and dancing my ass off. I imagine some unflattering pics of said dancing will be showing up on Facebook over the next week. Can't wait...


Officially, the party was for our friend Bill, who was turning 40. Bill is an awesome guy who totally has not changed since back in the day. It's a weird thing to suddenly be back among people who knew me when I was a totally different person. And it's crazy to hear how people remembered me, how they "always knew" I'd be successful, and how I always seemed like I'd do great things. Not for nothing, but I don't recall 98% of these people mentioning that at the time. Quite the opposite, in fact. Anywhoo...


The gig was amazing. Jason still has the sweetest voice ever. I love it so much. The last song of the night was about me. I don't mean that in an absurd drunk-girl kind of way. The song Blues for a Better Wednesday was written about me, roundabout 1990. I'll probably podcast it sometime so you can all hear it. Jason called it their best song. I was quite touched.

The whole event was tremendous fun, and illustrated rather sharply the differences between my life then, and my life now. There were a bunch of people I was delighted to see, and a few conspicuous absences, and a healthy handful of people who said how happy they were to see me--who I didn't recognize at ALL. I look pretty much the same as ever, but most of the dudes put on weight and lost their hair. A lot of the chicks totally changed their hair, and everyone was wearing dark glasses for some reason. People kept hugging me and H would ask who they were, and I wouldn't know. Bizzarre, but nice to be so well loved, amirite?


In other news, I have a ton of work to do this week. Tonight I'll draft the review of the Dexter premiere, which I'll finish and put up tomorrow. Also tomorrow will be watching and putting up a review of the new Boardwalk Empire ep. Have you been reading my Reviews at GeekBinge? You totally should be. I'll also be covering American Horror Story when that comes back--in just 17 days!!!

Also, I'll be finishing the new Stig and the Puppetman comic. After that, I'll be tearing into A Stabbing for Sadie to make edits for the 2nd edition. I changed almost nothing from KMLYLM. It's gonna get a new introduction and some new "Thanks." I thought about going back through some of Dami's dialogue but decided against it. That book is pretty good as it is, and doesn't need me um...Lucasing it up. Sadie, OTOH, is getting tore up and thematically embiggened.

The next book is outlined and ready for me to write the hell out of it for NaNoWriMo. If you're planning to get down with the NaNo this year, be sure to add me as your buddy. This one is set for a 2013 release as well, so I kind of have to rock this thing hard core. Luckily, that is typically how I roll.

In sadder news, I walked away from cooking bacon today and it burned to an inedible blackened crisp. I was sad. Bacon abuse. No.

You may recall my interview with Joshua Hoffine back in April of 2011. He had just busted out with Pickman's Masterpiece, a series of photos based the Lovecraft story. Damn, it's awesome.
Hoffine is a horror photographer who shares my love of primal terror, and the belief that the best scares come from deep within us all.

Today I got a press release (and early pic, but I can't post it online) for his new thing, and man...it is badass! I loves it!!


Joshua Hoffine, the internationally renown Horror Photographer
residing in Kansas City, reveals his latest masterpiece: JACK THE
RIPPER.

Joshua Hoffine's work exploded on the internet and in numerous
magazines and news outlets around the world in 2008 when he released
his collection of photographs exploring the nature of childhood fears.
Since that time he has cultivated a massive cult following for his
meticulously staged photographic works regarding, as he puts it, "the
psychology of fear."

Conceived as a 2-panel diptych, JACK THE RIPPER depicts the moments
"just before" and "just after" a grisly alleyway murder. "What makes
Jack the Ripper compelling to me", Hoffine says, "is that nothing is
known about him. Because he was never caught, we have no actual
information about who he was or why he committed his gruesome crimes.
What we have is not a historical or biographical portrait, but a
communally imagined idea of Jack the Ripper as an aristocratic
predator. As a boogeyman, he graphically symbolizes the idea of the
wealthy and powerful preying on the poor."

On September 4th, Hoffine will be officially releasing the first image
of his project online. Signed archival prints will be available for
purchase though his website at WWW.JOSHUAHOFFINE.COM. He will be
releasing the second part of his project on October 1st.


You can find this cat on Facebook, and do check out his incredible photography on his site. It's all staged photography, not photoshop.
Plus, he's a super nice guy.



In Wednes-related news, I took a longish 2-part test for an awesome work from home day-job. It's more than I was making at the last day job, but much less than a phonsex operator. *snicker* All this hounding of freelance clients for money has already become tiresome. I think I'm more productive with a steady gig, rather than chasing work with big payments that are few and far between. Plus, writing about flowers wasn't that fun. Anyway, I'll hear about that on Monday.
Next week, we're also getting cheaper cable. No non-evil cable companies exist where I am. So we're getting rid of Comcast and getting AT&T. On paper, they'll give us a lot more for less money. I hear the internet will be slower. I hope it's not too annoying. The DVR will record 4 channels at once, which will totally rescue my Sunday night. Yeah...I got first-world problems.
;-]

Watched the RNC convention last night. It seems that the next time we see Paul Ryan, he'll have a very long nose and will have to resign himself to never becoming a Real Boy.

If you wouldn't mind hipping every literate, Kindle using person you know--I'd be much obliged. FREE. One. Day. Only.

Just a quick reminder that my One Day Only FREE Kindle giveaway begins in just a few short hours.
From midnight-11:59am PST
Wednesday, February 1st
Kiss Me Like You Love Me is FREE to absolutely everyone.

It's not a contest.
It's not a competition.
You go there, you download it, it's yours.

It's an awesome deal.
I mean, Have you SEEN these reviews?!?

And please, tell all your buddies who like twisted shit.
Contains murder, intense violence, minors as sex objects, stupidity, cops, drug and alcohol use and abuse, people being jackasses, and a bunch of what the kids these days call "fucked up shit."

It appears that I have recurring kidney stones. I deduced this after the most physically painful night of my entire life to date, last night. I have broken bones, gone through TWO abcessed molars, another (what I thought at the time at least) bad kidney stone, and some other gruesome shit I won't detail here. Point is, this was by a WIDE margin the most excruciating thing I've ever experienced. Wailing, screaming into a pillow agony. For serious.

At first, I convinced myself that I had a fatal bowel obstruction. Curses, half-assed Internet research! Took a while for me to actually figure it out, I was hurting so bad I literally couldn't think straight. My whole body felt weak and shaky. I contemplated calling an ambulance for over two hours. When I took an ambulance 10 years ago, I got a bill for $700. Zod only knows what it would cost now.

I actually called H and asked him to come home from work after 2 solid hours of screaming pain. We decided that I could take a cab to emergency (They will drive you to Emergency as long as you can enter and exit the cab by yourself--honestly, I was not sure I could) It took 3 hours for H to get to me because he was working alone and a manager drove in from an hour away to cover for him. I seriously thought I was dying until I realized that it was just a goddamn kidney stone. I didn't go to emergency as spending a couple hundred bucks to ultimately be given some painkillers and sent home with a follow up appointment--it just didn't seem financially prudent.

By 5am, it was over and I felt more or less fine. Exhausted and somehow dehydrated, despite drinking 2 litres of water and at least 12oz of aloe juice since midnight. Thank Zod I had some in the house.

Presumably, this will mean tests and more tests. Expensive tests. As such, I will not be able to take time off the day job to finish The Finster Effect. I'm gonna do my damnest to finish it on time anyway--but who the hell knows?
Once H and I determined I was not about to die, I took some more midol and a sleeping pill and went to bed around 5:30am. I'm exhausted and frazzled, and am not doing fuckall today except going to see my buddy's band play. I hardly ever go out to do things that aren't a meal or a movie, so this will be nice.

Shit. I was also supposed to put up the Bear McCreary interview last night. Guess I better try to do it today.

In better news, the Miraculous Bed Swap of 2011 is tomorrow, provided everything goes according to plan. A nice family is taking our old bed, along with a mattress cover I got but never even took out of the package. And we're buying a $2800 Tempurpedic King for $500.
Score!

This past weekend, I did my first ever appearance at a body-positive event. ( Preemptive disclaimer about the kind(s) of fuckery that will not be tolerated in the comments. ) These kinds of things are also referred to as "Fat Acceptance," "BBW/BHM events," "Health-at-Every-Size" initiatives, or may be associated with NAAFA or similar group. This particular one involved a new group called Love Your Body Detroit. The event was a fundraiser called BODYSLAM. There were vendors, poetry and prose, foodstuffs, and an art display--The Vagina Show to be exact. I like vagina's as much as the next person, but stuff like this is just silly to me:

I am so much more than my vag (excuse me, my yoni), my period, etc.

Anywhoo, it was held at the Trumbullplex. The chicks were awesome, the crowd was fun, there was a chick selling underwear with a diagram of uteri printed on the front, and some that said "yes means yes." There was also an artist named Alex Heberling who did a great drawing of me. Once H scans it, I'll be using it as a profile pic here and there. Eventually, I'll teach the world that not all women in horror are barely 18, half-naked, and repeatedly falling on their asses after tripping over nothing.

( A few pics from the evening )

Oddly, there aren't any pics of me at the show. There is, however, some video. I've never actually posted a video of myself online before. Because you see...I'm pretty fat. Not someone who could be confused with chubby, no. I'm She'd be so pretty if... fat. AKA, Doesn't she know she could drop dead of a heart attack any second?!? fat. I exercise every day. Really. And while I do love cheeseburgers, I generally eat pretty well. I feel a great need to explain (read excuse) my weight, and insist that when judging me, people factor in my thyroid, depression, medication, etc etc etc so they know I'm trying. So they know I'm not lazy, not a gluttonous pig, not any of the things they assume I am based on my size. I am so uncomfortable looking at the footage of myself at the event, that it's a damn good thing I showed up.



Yeah, I'm fat. I'm also a goddamn genius. I'd take that over being a skinny idiot any damn day of the week. I couldn't get this vid to upload at my site, so I'm actually posting it publicly on YouTube, thereby making it viewable to the entire interwebs. If people are mean enough to me, maybe I can redeem myself on Daniel Tosh's show. ;-]

I have, on many occasions, stated that I blame Dan O'Bannon for the unfortunate phenomenon in which everybody and their brother thinks that zombies say Braaaains. People, this is simply not the case. Zombies do not speak. They just don't. If they can breathe, and think, and decide exactly what kind of public servant they'd like for nom noms, how the hell are they even zombies? Not even the Army Copse of Engineers could pull that off.

Today, I had the good fortune of having my assertion confirmed by none other than John Russo.



And there was much rejoicing.

Anyone who knows me knows that I take zombies pretty seriously. I've had a zombie plan since I was in junior high, and used to spend a lot of time mapping out routes, safe (and more importantly UNsafe) zones, hoarding supplies, etc. My fear of zombies is the only reason I know anything about guns at all is so I can shoot them in the head. Even though we now know that gunfire attracts zombies (I learned it from grizzly bears, but then Walking Dead spilled the beans for everybody), I still feel good about being a decent shot. My new book is also about zombies, which is odd, since the first novel I ever tried to write (but never finished, turned it into a rock opera instead) was also a zombie story.

When someone is accused of making zombies, mine ears perk up. When that someone is in Haiti of all places--the zombie capital of the world, I get a little edgy. And when someone is jailed for creating little kid zombies and held there without a lawyer, I begin to consider a declaration of shenanegans. Poor guy gave up a construction business to help out after the Haitian earthquakes, and now he's in some godawful prison that Anderson Cooper said is one of the worst places to be on Earth. And he'd know...he's handsome. ;-]

We talk a lot about how America is so messed up, poor people going without basic needs, 9/11 first responders losing their homes due to medical bills, rich people not having a clue about what poor people go through. But man...I'm not sure so it's America. There are blithering asshats all over the world who'd step on their brother's neck if they thought there was a diamond in it. Maybe mankind of destined to allow the strong to prey on the weak until zombies are absolutely everywhere.

Here’s the deal: I am dealing with both carpal and corpal tunnel "syndrome." My hands go numb and/or have pain. It also makes me drop things, and makes it painful to type. I wear wrist braces most of the time now, and have recently added elbow braces (to protect my poor ulnar nerve from getting squished). If I can’t get this under control, not only will I be pained and whiney, but I may need surgery and will have to drastically curtail my writing, producing, and marketing efforts. That would be a tragedy for us all.
I have to do an entire rework of my home office space (chair, desk, keyboard, shelves, optical mouse, etc), and it’s going to set me back a couple hundred dollars. And that’s where YOU come in!

I am accepting donations of any amount, but for certain amounts, you get prizes:

A $5 donation will get you a scary haiku on a subject of MY choosing, sent via Email.

A donation of a mere $10 will get you a handwritten scary haiku on a subject of YOUR choosing. I’ll put it on nice stationery, and send it via the good people at the US postal service.

A donation of $15 will get you a super scary home-made CD signed by me and shipped to you or someone of your choosing.

A donation of $25 will get you any one of my three published novels (you pick), signed, personalized and shipped to you--or any horror fan on your holiday gift-giving list.

A donation of $50 or more will allow you, or a person of your choosing, to be a minor character in my new novel—which is coming out in 2012. Email me for details on this one.

And a donation of $75 or more will get a 1,200+ word short story on a subject of your choosing. You may also choose one ORIGINAL character (no fanfic *shudder*) to be in the story. Again, Email me with questions if you have any.

Donations may be sent to H’s PayPal account: sdsequence@comcast.net
Be sure to provide info on which item(s) you’d like, and whom they need to be shipped to. Contact me privately if you have questions or want to donate via postal mail.

Many of the items I need are also on my Universal/Amazon wish list, so if you want to, you can send me something outright. Of course, no one should feel bad for not donating, or for thinking I’m a tool for even asking. That’s all good. But if you can donate, you’ll have my undying gratitude, as well as a mention in the “thanks” page of my next published novel.

I know intellectually that when talking about skin-cancer, that there is a 98% chance that it is no big whoop. Nothing to get upset about. It's not gonna kill me--which means it can only make me stronger, or more scarred up. I decided that when they do cut this ugly splotch off my head, that it will leave a big scar, that I will then have tattoo'd to look like a Harry Potter scar. People will then mock me on the Internets, equating me with Twilight fans who get Edward tats across their entire back. And I will hate them--because I dig the hell out of Harry Potter mythos, but I'm not really into fucking any of the characters. C'mon...I'm a grown woman.

My point is that I have a solid plan in place for dealing with this. I'm reasonably certain it's cancer. It's been changing size, shape, and color. Plus, my mom just had the same thing happen--which leads me to suspect it might be psyche meds that are causing it since she and I became cancerous at roughly the same time even though my mom is 20 years older than I. I started taking meds in my 20's, and she in her late 40's. But that is mainly guesswork and conjecture.

Even though I have a plan, a ride, and insurance--for some reason I am absolutely petrified of going to this appointment tomorrow. I want to cancel it and just not go. I don't want them looking at me, I don't want to get sliced up, and I don't want to have to tell people in my life that I have cancer. Cancer, like witchcraft, or drugs--scares people needlessly.

I have a long and glorious history of freaking out over things that later turn out to be nothing. Of course I am hoping this is one of those times. But I honestly can't recall being this frightened--at least not since the last time I had legal trouble, 15 or so years ago.

So...you know...Yipes!


On a completely unrelated topic, H and I have been married 3 years as of today.
Funny, since we started living together in 1999.

So here it is, the cut that will henceforth be known as the Larry Balong. I also got some good snaps of the color, since it's pretty badass. I'm going to redo the blue tomorrow as it kinda faded off the bottom.

Turns out, the Larry Balong is a great cut. Very similar to Bre's. The stylist (who was AWESOME, by the way) was Ashley at Regis at Briarwood Mall. She gave me this kickass deep conditioning, and you totally can't tell my hair was recently ravaged by bleach. And believe me when I tell you that this morning--it was obvious that my hair had been ravaged by bleach. She put in this deep conditioner and I had to sit under the dryer like the chicks in that one scene from Carrie. I sat there and read a book (I'm reading the Bio of Daisy and Violet Hilton) while my hair got all nice and moisturized. Then...the cut.


It's Layery in the front and back, so it can be poofy both places.
It won't actually be this straight normally. She used the blow dryer and a giant round brush.
I did get some kind of volumizing tub of something to smear into my hair. And some kind of sculpting stuff that will be awesome if I ever decide to bust out with a faux hawk.


The back is really short, so it's totally off my neck. Awesome!


As you can see...the pink kinda got away from me.


But in the end...I turn out adorable.

Once I get my new glasses next week, I'll have a whole new face.
Then hopefully, new publicity pics!


Also, I'm looking for podcast people who might want to trade 60 second promos with me.
Know anyone?