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State of the WIP

What a mess. Don't get me wrong, I love this new book. And a lot of the feedback I've been getting from beta readers is largely positive. Except for the one who didn't like the sex scenes. Or the one who thinks there's too much cussing. Or all of them who are lost because they don't have the entire Vinestead Anthology completely memorized. That's why I don't write sequels. And yet, I think I did...

It’s Okay to Forget

Between the faux patriotism, virtue signaling, and outright attacks on Muslims, social media can make you feel like it's your American Duty to remember the anger, pain, and hopelessness. Well, if no one has told you today yet, it's okay to forget.

I Don’t Get #PitMad, I Get #PitEven

So much of what happens on Twitter makes no sense to me: the anthropomorphization of creative inspiration, the hostile writing advice, and of course, #PitMad. As far as I can tell, PitMad is an event where you, the aspiring novelist, tweet a short pitch for your latest bestseller. In turn, real live literary agents read your tweet and offer you money, women, and drugs. Then all your wildest...

Not My Forte

I can think of dozens of things I might say on my death bed 200 years from now, but one thing I'm sure I won't say is: boy, I wish I'd spent more time marketing. If anything, I will lament how much time and money I spent trying to convince people to read my books instead of actually writing them. In fact, if I'm taking too long to die, just show me 280 accumulated years of Facebook Ads receipts...

A Woman Takes Off Her Bra

Here's what I've found to be true about editing on the fly: the more you write, the more you can adjust things while you're writing. What used to take 10 drafts to rewrite may now only take 6. The point is, you know things are wrong as they're coming out of your finger-mouths. But then sometimes, you don't notice, because you're basically a 12-year-old boy when it comes to topless women.

So You Slept With Your Dog

Despite my many years in veterinary school, I was unaware dogs had an ACL (or CCL, cranial cruciate ligament, if you want to get pedantic). You know who was also unaware dogs had an ACL? Our dog. Six year old American Eskimo mix, Cheyenne. So, when in the course of canine frivolity, Cheyenne tore her ACL, it was just one of many surprises she experienced in that moment.

All Things Considered

As some of you may know, my wife, Dominique, and I, had a son a couple of years ago. Recently, this son has begun throwing temper tantrums–throwing himself on the ground, flailing on his back, and screaming. However, and this is the gooey center of this Drumstick anecdote, our son is already smart enough to understand that the floor is essentially a sheet of vinyl on concrete, and thus...

Go Get It

I'm very self-conscious when I run. And Dom's reassurance of nobody's looking at you is hard to believe because when I'm out driving and see someone running, I'm looking at them. The weird thing about anxiety is that when I'm running, I'm assuming people are laughing at my posture, slow pace, or dope-ass dad bod. But when I see people running, I'm usually thinking, go get it, girl (or boy, as the...

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