Well, time for the requisite ‘update’ post, wherein I make numerous excuses as to why I haven’t finished the novel or any one of 12 other projects usually in the works.

So here goes…

I still haven’t finished the damn book. And I have little to no excuse.
I do have 2 stories on the verge of Anthologization. ‘BLOOD ON THE STRIP’ is in the final running for a contest with Dark Moon books, and ‘HUM’ is in final revisions for the ‘Crappy Job Anthology’ being put together by the venerable Bob Vardeman. I also had a week that got away from me while I scrambled to put together a rather sad package of goods to submit to Billboard Magazine when an old pal mentioned that she had a friend who was an editor looking for a Canuckistani contributor. Far be it from me to question Fate, so I submitted what I had. I would never delude myself into thinking that I had a brain cell’s chance in Paris Hilton, but I took that baby step and put myself out there, which actually did feel good.

Now to finish the revisions for story #1, finish the first draft of SINATRA and collect on my NummaNummaHoChiMinhHo prize of a ‘free proof copy’ before it’s too late.

Then I guess I should start looking to the future instead of wallowing in the present. My amazing wife has taken up her pen again (which is fantasmagorical), and recently brushed off a Vegas-themed story she wrote a couple of years ago when I was asked to do a graphic novel project that never came to fruition. The Legendary Scott Dammit also has a couple of ace Vegas tales, so I’m seriously considering spear-heading an anthology of Las Vegas-centric tales under my own umbrella. Something to chew on…

So stay tuned and rest assured. More to follow…

I said I would finish the book by end of February and, while it has yet to come to fruition, I am still struggling along and finally set to plow into the final countdown (cue Gob Bluth theme music…)

As usual, Life constantly intrudes, laziness precludes and plain ol’ procrastination denudes… My littlest Dude has had three – count em’ – THREE first birthday parties this month… not to mention car trouble, money trouble, double trouble, hubba bubble and the steady increase of chronic bitchiness in that useless excuse of a right leg. Of course, as Our Saint of Holy Euphemisms puts it:

 “Pain or damage don’t end the world. Or despair or fucking beatings. The world ends when you’re dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man… and give some back.”

That Al Swearengen, he was an erudite cocksucker.

Still. I am in the home stretch and 2.5 days to go. Who knows what damage I can do to poor old Moss Cole in that time. Although I did just finish a scene where our intrepid antihero finally got to dish out a little abuse of his own via Tazer electrodes to the ballsack. I leave you with that and return to my labors. Catch you on the flipside, bastardes.