Out Of The Woods

So, I’m not dead! That seems like solid ground to start on.

In retrospect, I realize that making an announcement about traveling America alone in a minivan and then going radio silent for six months might have been slightly ominous. My bad, guys. My bad. Needless to say, a lot has happened since the last time I updated. Thousands of miles flickered past on my odometer; I got an eyeful of nature’s splendor from coast to coast, border to border. Multiple disasters were averted, and a few simply endured. All in all, it’s been a wild ride. Continue reading Out Of The Woods

In Ageless Sleep – Book Release

So, this post is a bit belated, due to a fun combination of living out of a van in the wilderness and also being miserably sick—but here it is! The moment you’ve been wait-ing for! …Or at least, the moment I’ve been waiting for. Let’s skip the drumroll, I can’t wait any longer.

My first published novella is, at this very moment, available for purchase as an e-book.

Whew, I won’t get tired of hearing that any time soon. Continue reading In Ageless Sleep – Book Release

Hard Way Home

There are certain points in anyone’s life when the ground rises up to shake you loose. Right now I feel like I’ve been tossed right into the stratosphere.

After months of planning and years of intent, I’ve finally done it—I packed up all my worldly possessions into the back of my camper-van and set out west on March 15th. My plan was to spend some time on the road before making my way up to Olympia, Washington, where I planned to settle down. My mother tagged along on the road trip for the first two weeks, a little vacation to spend more time with me (and help with the long drive through corn country). And after taking her on a tour of Utah’s national parks, I dropped her off at the airport and began a new chapter of my life alone—a moment I’d been anticipating for months.

But as I pulled away from the Departures terminal in Vegas with my mom waving and crying in the rear view mirror, there was no sense of rising excitement; no swell of newfound freedom. Instead, I felt nothing more than a pit of terror eating its way into my gut. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to turn around and beg my mom to buy me a ticket back with her.

Continue reading Hard Way Home

Bad Mnemonics

Am I the only one who routinely forgets that February only has twenty-eight days?

I mean, it’s the same thing every year. You’d think that after going through it twenty-three separate times I’d have gotten the hang of it by now. I blame that old rhyme they taught us in grade school:

Thirty days has September,

April, June, and November,

All the rest have thirty-one,

Except for February, which has twenty-eight.

I literally believed I had mis-remembered the final line, but it turns out that it’s just terrible. It doesn’t rhyme, doesn’t match the meter; no wonder it refuses to stick in my head. Basically, all of this is a long-winded excuse for the fact that I accomplished basically none of my goals for the month of February. But those last three days, man. I really could have read another four books, written another 6,000 words, done a month’s worth of Spanish practice and finished two more short stories, if I’d just had the whole thirty-one. Honestly.

Yep, I am absolutely willing to attribute all my problems and failings to cosmological inconveniences. Works wonders for peace of mind. But despite being an era of steadfastly procrastinating on my goals, the past month did yield some exciting new writing releases.


Have you ever thought that Sleeping Beauty could use more epic spaceship battles? More crackin’ wise? More lesbians? If so, April 11 will be a good day for you, because my novella In Ageless Sleep will be hitting the e-shelves! And if not, well—I may be biased, but I think you might just love it all the same.

You can pre-order your copy (on sale until release!) right here. Continue reading Bad Mnemonics

One Down

A lot of things are different this year. Last January we got dumped with three feet of snow—this year, we got less than three inches. Last January I had no idea when (or even if) I was ever going to get a piece of writing accepted, and now I’m starting to get the hang of this whole ‘getting published’ business. Last January I wasn’t googling things like “how to resist a political coup” and “current risk of economic collapse.” Now how’s that for nostalgia value?

This January has not been easy for me. I’ve spent much of the past eleven days in a “dissolving into 80s synth pop while staring into the endless void of a blank page” state of mind. Writing fiction feels almost trivial in the face of everything that’s happening right now. It feels wrong not to at least acknowledge that.

But between walking in the Women’s March and swallowing my social anxiety to call my Congressman for the first time in my life, I’ve been trying to stick to my creative goals. Letting fear and helplessness poison me into abandoning my goals is just giving the fascists what they want. I know it’s not exactly a form of grand and meaningful resistance to simply try not to let my own spirit get crushed into powder, but it’s something, right? And if things continue as they’re going, it will only be the beginning. I’ll put Connolly on my speed-dial if I have to.

Continue reading One Down