January 23rd, 2018


"Secrets locked up and loaded on my back."

Overcast and rain, and currently it's 51˚F, with the windchill at 46˚F.

Day before yesterday, I answered a series of questions about Black Helicopters from a copyeditor at Tor.com. By the way, you can now preorder the book on Amazon. The release date in May 1.

These grey days are the ugliest side of winter.

On Facebook yesterday I wrote, Right now, Donald Trump is a small, small terror compared to the terror I feel at this latest round of writer's block. I've written nothing substantial since sometime in November. I can't think of anything that instills in me more self loathing than an inability to work.

Yesterday, Kathryn went to the post office in Olneyville, to mail the signature sheets for Black Wings VI to Lynne Jamneck in New Zealand. I asked her to please take a photo for me of the most desolate thing she saw. So, I have this photograph of the Woonasquatucket River, which is, in fact, at best, only a creek.

Aunt Beast

2:53 p.m.