Category Archives: Day-to-Day: What’s Going On, Events, Releases and New Things



I lost the internet today.

I’m not exactly devastated by the loss, but it’s cramped my style, at least as far as blogging goes.

So, I’m going to apologize in advance for what’s going to be a tedious entry.

But, God as my witness, I hate writing on my phone. Texting, blogging, snapping: whatever it is, it puts my back up.

I’m not gong to pretend there’s anything deep or meaningful about this.

“It’s the confinement. My words don’t have the space to breathe. ”

Lord knows I’m never pompous or overwrought.

I read a article about a writer who would dictate into her phone and I felt genuinely angry.

I think that says a lot about me and none of it really good.

I think I’m going to wrap this up.


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Across the Pond


I’ll be leaving the country soon and it will be the first time that I’ve done so since I’ve gotten here.

I’m excited about it, but I don’t think I’ve really processed it yet.

And to be clear, we’re going to London, so this is not as out there as we could possibly go. I think I’ll be able to pick up the language pretty quickly. I don’t think I’ll be able to repress my strong and constant desire to mimic accents, which is a problem here, at home. And if you don’t understand why that’s a problem, you haven’t heard me do my Boston accent.

Sorry, that was a digression.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

I’m starting to become anxious about the fifteen thousand ways I might act as an obnoxious American tourist, without even meaning to do so.

I’m also concerned about the likelihood that I’m going to miss out on something. I have no idea if I’m ever likely to go back to London, so I need to pack everything I can into this one trip.

Driving is a concern.

Also, Brexit.

So, as always, I’m turning something fun into an anxiety riddled blur of emotions and I just need to take it easy.

But if you have any recommendations for things to do in London, lemme know.

Because I’m worried about missing anything.



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Writing On Writing About Writing for a Writer

Hello Again,

I’ve been going back and forth on what I want this blog to be and that’s just given me plenty of great excuses to not write anything.

And, if there’s anything I excel at, it’s creating excuses.

In an attempt to make sure that I write something, anything, in this space, I’m freeing myself from any and all restraints. I’m not going to try and make this some politically intense blog or  a blog about just horror or pop culture or dinosaurs or whatever else I happen to be interested in. I’m going to come here, once a day and just write whatever I feel like. I spend so much time, so much energy, in just finding the best possible way to limit myself that it’s time to loosen up and see what happens.

In that vein, I’m also bringing back an old writing exercise I used to do on a now defunct blog. During the month of October, I used to write one complete story a day, no shorter than 500 words in length. One of the biggest problems I have as a writer is just finishing a story. I’m going to go back to basics and relearn some skills I know I’ve forgotten.

I won’t be publishing those stories here. I’ve learned from other mistakes in the past when I just had stories published on websites and they’ve now migrated all over the internet. But maybe one or two of these new stories will see the light of day.

I’ll see you here again tomorrow. Not sure what we’ll be talking about then, but I’ll be here.



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Welcome Back


It has been a long time, but I think it’s time to come back.

Since I stopped writing here, I have been writing. I have, in fact, never stopped, but I needed to stop writing here.

Part of it was that I just don’t know how to tackle this format without getting very angry. I want to write about politics. I want to write about the ways that the system, in many ways, has failed us. I want to scream about the anti-scientist, anti-intellectual, anti-progressive. I want to fucking tear all down the mother fuckers that decide that it’s more important to keep things the way they are instead of making it right for everyone. I want to to fucking tear down all the mother fuckers who shit on the poor, the blacks, the trans, the gays, and all the people who are denied happiness by the privileged pieces of shits that decided what is and what isn’t.

But it felt like screaming into the void.

There are some changes coming here in the near future, but for now…

I’m going to start work on a project I’ve been thinking about for the last two years.

I want to talk more horror and how it reflects us.

I want to publish more stories.

I want to talk more and listen more and create more.

I want to make everything right again, the only way that I can.


I’m going to start writing here again. I’m going to start by trying to be a better person. I’m going to start by being a voice again. I’m going to start by listening again.

I’m going to start now.



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We Can Rebuild Him

Let’s see if I remember how to do this…

Over the last year or so I’ve been slowly drifting further and further away from where I want to be and it’s only recently that I’ve made some very deliberate strides back to where I want to be.

I started small.

I’ve been going through this blog and restructuring it. I’m not done with the great revamping, but it’s getting there. It’s just about setting the house in order. Putting entries in their proper places, sweeping other entries under the rug where people can’t see them and, in general, reminding myself why I kept a blog in the first place.

But it’s all tedious and uninteresting and I doubt you’re here to read about my newest categorization structure.

Once I started to set the blog to rights, I also started writing some fiction again. Small things; words strung together into sentences and then sentences strung together into paragraphs until a plot started to form up. I’ve returned to building worlds again and it feels good, although strange. I feel like I’m coming back to a place I’ve abandoned and I see all these toys and tools lying in the dust and I’m realizing that I left them there to rust and to fall apart.

I’m taking it slow though. Moving with care. I feel like if I charge forward with that insane gusto (promising a blog entry a day for a whole month, a month of horror fiction, NANOWRIMO) I’ll just burn myself out and this will be the last you see of me.

So, here’s another small step forward.

The first blog entry of the new year.

I hope to see you around.


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Yesterday we went outside of the city, something we rarely do and something we have not done in a long time. Sometimes, it’s hard to remember how beautiful New England can be, especially when it’s just starting to turn to Fall.

We drove down two lane roads that were closely hemmed in on both sides by trees that were just beginning to show tinges of reds and oranges. Light would filter down through the leaves and then we would turn a corner and the trees would fall away to show a pond with the light hitting in just that right way.

We passed cranberry bogs and U-Pick Farms where cars lined the roadway as families picked over trees and chose pumpkins for Halloween. We passed small signs in front yards advertising that this house was for candy apples and this one would be a great place to stop for firewood (Cheap!). There were yard sales and white church steeples and it was Norman Rockwell reborn in the 21st century.

There is no doubt that’s where I want to be, some day; out and away from the city. I just don’t know that’s the case quite yet.


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Pushing Back the Boundaries

Lately, it’s been important for me to push my boundaries more and more; specifically with regard to things that give me the jibblies. I’m not talking about scary movies and horror comics; I’m talking about social anxieties and the fact that I would cheerfully be a shut-in if I let myself.

A long time ago, I learned that anxieties are insidiously hard to deal with. When you back away from the things that frighten you, it becomes easier and easier to back away every time you face something that scares you. You’re giving the fear positive reinforcement. Clearly, if you have a fear of being shot by muggers or eaten by savage bears, you should probably continue to indulge in that particular fear. But when it comes to irrational fears, phobias and anxieties, it is incredibly important to make a stand against that fear.

And then, even beyond that, you need to throw yourself headlong and do things you would otherwise not do, to push the limits and extend the boundaries. You cannot, I cannot continue to let myself be hemmed in by irrational and borderline ludicrous anxieties.

It’s become a constant thing, a tiring thing and also a fun thing, because it turns out sometimes you try something and you actually enjoy it and have fun and then, maybe, you can do it again.

And sometimes it’s terrible and awful and you want to crawl in a hole and never come out, but, guess what, now you know you can take it and move on. You take a couple of hits and you keep on trucking and that’s an important lesson too.

I try, sometimes not as much as I should, to improve myself in some small way. Sometimes a very small way, but it’s the trying that’s important.

And the occasional success.


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Boston Revisited

A friend of mine is visiting for a few days and it’s reintroducing me to the city I live in.

It’s too easy to forget those places you see everyday or those places you used to go to; but once you show a newcomer those things that caused you to fall in love with your home on the first place, it becomes easy to see once again.

I’ve enjoyed traveling to our old haunts and remembering again everything that made Boston, Boston for Emily and me.

I feel a little sad that we’re already planning the day that we leave, but at least I can remember why I’ll be sad.


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Subcultures in the Mist

As I’ve mentioned before in posts that I don’t feel like digging up, I’ve been getting involved in a new hobby. I’ll spare you the details about what this hobby entails, as I have a whole other blog for that, but I’ve thrown myself completely into the subculture that surrounds this hobby and it’s fascinating.

In every culture, there are heroes and tropes and easily identifiable figures. There are law makers and governments: figures that impose order. There are merchants and moneymakers. There are storytellers and stories to tell.

And as you go down the ladder, going into sub-cultures and sub-subcultures, you start to realize that this is true all the way down, that there are, in fact, turtles all the way down. I find it fascinating that, even in a rapidly expanding global subculture, there are still all these little hidden pockets that mirror the society at large and you can go your whole life and not know they’re there.

At times, since I’m still not fully embedded in this subculture, I feel like an observer, an intruder with a tape recorder, like Alan Lomax. There are leaders and tales of ancient history and eldars and songs and I’m there to witness it all. It’s very strange, like I’m straddling a line.

But now I think I’m making way too much of it and it’s time to move on.


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Lock Down

Last night, around 1am, I heard a sound. It sounded like a loud bang and, given recent events, I paid attention to it. But then it was quiet and I started to fall back asleep.

And then the second explosion.

And then I noticed the sirens and more sirens and what sounded like gunfire.

While Emily listened to a police scanner, I walked around and made sure the doors were locked, crawled back to bed and went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up to find that the MBTA has shut down completely. The police are advising that the residents in my town, as well as in Cambridge and Watertown, to stay indoors. As I write this, there is more gunfire in the distance and a small army of soldiers, police officers and SUVs just went down my street at a run.

The two bombing suspects, apparently, killed a police officer at MIT, stole a car and then drove the car within a hair’s breadth of where I live before the police caught up with them. The sounds I heard last night; the explosions, gun fire and sirens, were the sounds of the police catching two of the most hated men in Boston.

One of them escaped. The other didn’t.

The manhunt is intense and all encompassing. There are rumors of evacuations. There are constant reminders to stay indoors. I have been answering texts and phone calls since I woke up this morning.

This is…surreal. This blog entry is not so much for you as it is for me. I wanted to nail down what exactly is happening so I don’t walk through today like a ghost, dazed and out of sync with the rest of the world. I need more concrete words and solid sentence structure and less vague feelings of unease and distress. And as melodramatic as that sounds, I feel like I’m a little entitled to melodrama considering the view out of my window this morning.

So here it is: They are going to catch this man. It’s a little dangerous outside, but Emily and I are safe and we are locked down.

Stay safe.


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