Where's Marky?

I know there hasn’t been much blogging lately, and I apologize to those who actually miss it. Real life has been making its presence felt in almost everything I do: broken glasses, lost keys, plumbing problems and a near-arrest at Wal-Mart (it was three in the morning and I had purchased reading glasses, the tag on which set off the security alarm, followed by my inability to find my receipt, much to the amusement of the 12 people who had been dozing at the Wal-Mart McDonalds).

A big distraction was the illness suffered by one of my cats. Clark is fine now, but I’m such a big baby when it comes to the cats that I was a basket case for a couple of days. So was Lois, who hissed and growled at Clark for three days because he smelled like the vet's office.

The writing continues, both on The Firecracker Man and the collaborative novel with Dave Wilbanks.

I’m really jazzed about Pulp Nocturne. More details on that one coming soon (but now you know why I’ve been posting so many pulp covers. That’s all I’ve been reading lately).

Thanks for the emails from those who have read and enjoyed my story in Damned Nation…both of you. :^)