So I’m having a damnable time writing anything. Yesterday I spent most of the day working on a framework for a boardgame I might set up a Kickstarter for, if I can get the base mechanics worked out and find an artist who wants to work on it. Today I’m fomenting a rant on class and the problems of living just above homelessness (and the huge gap between those who can easily take advantage of public assistance and those who don’t need the public assistance – populated mostly by people who make too much to get help but not enough to do it themselves). I’m also working on ideas for the Victorian scientist-superheros, the steampunk sports story, Out of Thyme, Notes from the Abyss P2, and The First and Forgotten Hero. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to focus in almost a week on any of my stories. So, I can’t really write anything. :\

I was recently linked on Skepchick, though, which is really awesome. Makes me feel like I’m doing a good job with my rants!

So, tell me what’s going on with you, tell me what you’d like to see from me, and tell me about who unfair all of this is.


But here’s the beginning of what I’m working on for my Victorian superhero team.

I don’t know what it is but I just can’t string words together today.


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My Very Own Avengers

May 25, 2012

So I wrote this thing on G+ the other day. Read it –


“Have you ever observed the ant or the rabbit, Woolsey?” Doctor Albarth Rotterchilde walked down the dark staircase hidden at the back of the Alpha-Beta Club – the newest eugenecist club in the Empire – closely followed by his manservant Cal Woolsey.

“They are cooperative creatures, reliant and trusting on each other. The ant works together as a united organism, gathering food and building large and complex structures to support their diminutive race. Quite inspiring.” The pair swept through a long, dark hallway and passed through a door locked with a complex puzzle of bones, skulls, and weights.

“The rabbit, similarly, is dependent on the rest of the warren. They build together. They warn each other. They elicit some form of information on where food and safety are to be found. And they scream to notify others of death, so that they may prepare the body or bury. Honestly, I am not sure of the particulars of the practices of rabbit burial.” Inside the room at the end of the hallway, Albarth began to strike up electric lamps bolted onto rough-hewn stone walls. The chamber they were in now was large, cavernous, and smelled slightly of dampness, metal shavings, and mechanic’s grease.

“I think that the current political climate, the current philosophical climate, has infected mankind. We have been driven away from cooperation for the betterment of the species and fallen into a trap of superiority. We’ve come to value independence and individuality to the point of sacrifice of our fellow man.” Albarth pulled a sheet off of a massive object at the center of the room, releasing a flurry of dust, grease, and the sound of silk against steel. Underneath sat a massive suit of armor, covered in black silk and holding a staff of brass and copper.

“I believe that this is because humanity no longer has an apex predator to fear. Man believes that it is above the fear of nature, the necessity to work together, the interdependence of the species. So I have built this.” Albarth climbed into the armor, pulled the helmet down, and activated its etherlectric engines. A blue glow filled the death’s head mask and soft, rolling mist poured from the helmet and gloves, while the staff crackled with power and a haunting blue scythe blade grew out of it.

Albarth looked to Woolsey and in a dark, unearthly voice he commanded, “Call me Thanos, God of Death. Bringer of fear. Instructor of mortality.”


So I’m writing my own Steampunk Avengers. Sorta.

Another rant incoming, so strap in, keep your pants on, and get ready to find out what else you’re doing wrong and why I’m disappointed in you.

But it’s okay, I love you anyway and I forgive you. I’m just so…proud of you. And everything you’ve done already. I just need you to do one more thing for me.

You need to get out there, get together with all of the other people I love, and be an activist.


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I Am An Atheist

May 21, 2012

And if you’re an atheist as well, I think you have a moral obligation to help fix the world.

How do you plan to make the world a better place?

What’s this then? Where’s all the short story writing you’re used to? All the passable fiction that you kind of enjoy and don’t tell anyone about? Where’s the comforting sense of a budding artist, someone who won’t make it probably but you root for him anyway? What happened to the bright eyed optimist who keeps posting things that you worry about?

Well, I took off my optimist hat and today I’m picking up my social justice sword.

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