Update

 I unpublished my last piece, in which my monstera plant discusses my two horror novels (Approaching Storm and Star Language). I decided having a monstera plant named Milton was tasteless in the wake of the recent hurricane.

I’ve spent the last year recovering from neck surgery. I’m fused at two levels and there was a bone graft, a whole lot of physical therapy, plenty of drugs, and some pain. I had a crushed nerve and for a while it looked like I was going to have permanent deficits but I’m toughening up thanks to plenty of videogames.

While I was lying around medicated, I spent some time thinking about my writing.

                (1)          I have to write, like sharks have to swim.

                I’ve never had a problem writing. Finishing things … being marketable … doing PR … yeah. That’s why I went the self-published route, to see if I could come up with my own version of a midlist niche.

                (2)          I started out writing for kids but that phase is over.

                It was fashionable. Marketable. And then it turned into a culture wars battleground. While I came to a realization that I don’t want to write about kids, families, schools, first loves, any of that normal American stuff that I don’t relate to. Young Adult is not my niche after all. From now on, I’m writing for grown-ups (and kids precocious enough to read grown-up books).

                (3)          Then I bounced over to horror.

                I was dealing with chronic pain, depressed, facing some major issues, so I took it out on fiction. I came up with a couple of weird tales that had all the requisite adult things (substance abuse, sex, cussing, ultraviolence) to distinguish them from my kid books. I still think Star Language is one of the best things I’ve ever written, a retelling of Malinche and Cortes done up like a lurid TV drama featuring invading space aliens, trafficked girls … and linguistics.

                (4)          I had a meta goal involving socializing.

                My original plan: Write niche books. Travel to exciting places to attend conventions to promote niche books. Deduct expenses. Meet other niche writers, make friends, hang out for a few years prior to my demise from old age.

                Then the pandemic happened, and socializing moved inward. For a brief while I was juggling thousands of social media followers under various aliases and quite a few under my real name. There was a lot of pointless drama, and I came to some realizations about how I am basically a loner by nature. I like doing event planning but I hate being the event.

                (5)          I no longer have any goals beyond finishing my current creative project and staying alive until I get to see all the concerts I have tickets for.

                I’m good through August of 2025, although knowing me, I’ll probably keep extending this date indefinitely and buying more tickets.

                My current project has to do with Baz Rose. I was writing a spin-off novel about him subsequent to Rhonda Wray: Raptor Wrangler. Then my co-author decided to hold up the IP for several years. She finally gave it back. At the time I had the idea of writing a dozen short stories in various genres, and seeing if I could sell any of them, and continuing with whatever genre was most successful. So I started with a short story about Baz, but after I finished it I realized I wanted to spend more time with him, so I’m working on a novel at a very leisurely pace, where Baz gets shipped to another planet where he must form a band and record a hit album amongst a whole lot of gangster drama with space aliens. I also have one in the pipeline called Lahaina Noon that takes place on the island of Maui, where I was born.

            No more PR unless/until I find my direction. Assuming I do. Follow me on Amazon if you're interested in seeing what I write next.