One of the signs that the end is near: Marvel comes is doing a crossover with tv soap The Guiding Light. Read about it, if you dare.
On Monday, I did something to my knee so now when I walk, it feels like the knee is bending the wrong way. As a result, I’ve been walking like Festus on Gunsmoke.
I’ve been on a bit of a pulp frenzy (like you couldn’t tell from the past few entries). Now I have to get back into horror, as I have a pile of books waiting to be reviewed. The problem I have with reading pulps is that – for me – they’re like Lay’s Potato Chips or Chik-Fil-A nuggets. Or crack. Once I read one, I can’t stop.
Speaking of pulps, I’m made a good dent in another long pulp story for Wildcat Books. As soon as it’s finished, I have to work on two horror stories, then I’m finishing up Mad Reign of the Plague Master. Then it’s two more pulp stories for WCB. Busy busy.
All of the above will be periodically interrupted by work on the novel I’m writing with Dave Wilbanks, the sequel to Dead Earth: The Green Dawn. I’m behind on it now, and I’d better start typing this evening or else I’ll face the wrath of Dastardly Dave.
I just watched an incredible DVD.
Steve Earle is a phenomenal performer. A poet, playwright and activist, his songs of poor boys fighting rich men’s wars are the soundtrack for America in 2006. At least the America I live in. And “Conid, Condi” is the funniest song in years.
We’re putting a new podcast together tomorrow. Look for more on Monday.
A while back I put together a proposal for a comic book series. I shopped it around with less than spectacular results. But now an interesting development could make it a viable property. When there’s something to talk about, I’ll spill the beans.
In three weeks we leave on a seven day Caribbean cruise. As on past cruises, I’ll be the palest white man on the ship.
Okay. On to the tape of My Name is Earl. Have a good weekend. Go Bengals.
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