I’m doing this for a reason, go ahead and ignore it.

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Why you should read the Nameless series

I’m an absolutely terrible salesman. But I’m the only salesman I have, and so, I’m going to try and talk up my work here, on my blog, without doing any of the usual self-deprecation or self-effacement I usually do in these situations. The truth is, if I don’t present myself as believing in my work, why would you even be interested in reading it?

And I do believe in my work. I believe in it so much that despite going blind, despite repeatedly having to go in and let them inject me in both eyes and endure having lasers burn holes in my retinas, I made sure I finished these books. That’s how much I believe in it, and how much it means to me.

The giveaway post

I’m still doing a giveaway of my book Heartless if people email me asking for it, but while I’m at it, here’s something my friend Pete and I worked on a while back. It’s not finished and we’ve since changed direction on it like twice, but it’s still pretty cool in my opinion. August 5 1997

It’s free so that’s a plus. Enjoy. Feel free to let me know if you liked it. We’d like to bring the characters back again someday.

Pride, representation, and personal terror

I’m married to a woman. I love her. I think I might curl up into a ball and die if she left or I lost her. I have no interest in being with anyone else. These are all true statements.

I am bisexual. This is also a true statement.

Depression, the thief of time

You’ve likely heard the saying about depression being a liar, how it tells you awful things about yourself that paralyze you. That’s true. I’m not going to belabor that, but I do want to talk about how that paralysis can ruin you.

Preview of Faceless, on sale now

My new novel, Faceless, is out on Amazon. It is, in my opinion, the best of the Nameless series, exploring Lovecraftian themes that I’ve spent my life dealing with as both a writer of weird fiction and a native of Rhode Island. Growing up as a lover of things weird in that start, you eventually run into the Lovecraft mountain, and this is the book that comes out of my attempt to play handball with said mountain – to throw ideas off of the Cthulhu Mythos and see where they stick, and where they don’t. I also tried to deal with racism and a lot of topics that are implicit but rarely discussed in Lovecraft’s work. Even though I do love me some Mythos, it’s impossible to ignore that old HPL was, to put it mildly, crazily racist. A modern writer looking back on his work needs to address that.