Unyielding

The rumors of my death have been slightly exaggerated. Though correct in essence, my Lazarus Machine worked with admirable efficiency, considering that it’s made of discarded yoga mats and turn-of-the-century farm equipment.

There have been various new reviews and interviews, tragedies and Magoo-esque successes. Google if you’re curious.

I’ve been called away into that little place of exestential angst that allows me to get some work done, so I may again be incommunicado for a bit.

Satiate yourselves on what’s available, and feel free to send emails into the void of my inbox, should you have a question that you’d like ignored.

New novel out as soon as I find which truckstop I left my mind in.

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