Category: SGJ

by which I mean: two of my heroes, here.

Since I was updating everything else, I went ahead and stuffed what covers/links I could into the Anthologies-page here as well. That pages goes and goes and goes, man. I remember in grad school always being floored by how many stories Stephen Dixon had published—somewhere north of “300,” as I recall. I was at maybe forty or fifty published, then. Anyway, there’s not 300 anthologies here (maybe note even a hundred?), but, story-tally-wise, I guess IR…

Wow, so cool for Michael J. Seidlinger to do this:

Just like last year, I had this idea that doing a monthly post would make it a snap to figure out my best of the years: just scroll through, it’ll be obvious. I wish. Though it does make it easier to remember stuff from before summer, say. So, without further whatever, and by category, and including stuff I only FOUND in 2019, and just going plural for some instead of staging ties:

NOVELS

HORROR MOVIE

Slaughter, D-A-D, Skid Row, Poison, Mötley Crüe, Warrant, Ratt, Faster Pussycat, Tesla, Kix, King Kobra, Trixter, Jackyl, Cinderella, Guns n’ Roses, Lita Ford, Bon Jovi, Vixen, Twisted Sister, Steel Dragon, Bang Tango, Quiet Riot, Def Leppard, LA Guns, Great White, Whitesnake—these are a few of my favorite things. Which I guess is just another way of saying I was born in 1972, meaning I got my first truck in 87, meaning I had that hair metal volume knob cranked all the w…

Texas Tech Library’s got all my stuff as of about a year and a half ago. Looks to be catalogued, now:

Ten years ago outside Browning, Montana, four Blackfeet shot some elk, and then went on with their lives. It happens every year, it’s been happening forever, it’s the way it’s always been. But this time it’s different.

Ten years after that fateful hunt, these men are being stalked, are being hunted themselves. By who? By . . . what? And why?

Some hunting expeditions, they’re never really over.

This one’s just beginning.

Saga’s …

I’ve always been torn about who my favorite Star Trek captain might be—like Weird Al says, it’s a hard decision:

But now, with this, I don’t know, there’s another contender:

As you can tell from my recent swing through Texas, ketchup only is the way to go (didn’t really want the cheese, but he kept asking, so I got a single slice):

Well, not NEW-new—never had that kind—but new-to-me. And, too, the newest I’ve ever had. Before this, 1988 was as close to the present as I’d ever come with a truck. I tend to land in the late sixties, early seventies. But I recently sold all those old ones, had to face the fact that I now live in town, not on my own land, where I can park stuff wherever, let it start its good and necessary rust cycle.

So, anyway, there I was for a few months, no truck for the first time in my WH…