Book Tour: The Ones That Stare

Greetings, everyone. And now... the end is here... No, seriously, though. Today, this very blog post (my first in quite a while) marks the end of the digital book tour for my latest thriller novel The Ones That Stare. If you've been following along this whole time, then I thank you wholeheartedly. I hope you learned something about me or the book on the way, and look forward to your support. You know, artists can't produce these things without your support. So, during this trying time of Covid-19, with many of us staying at home, entertained by copious amounts of books, film and TV, please remember that all of that great stuff you consumed, and that kept you from going completely insane is somebody's job to put together. I know, it seems like a lot to ask you to spend money on entertainment when the general idea is that artists and entertainers should do their job for free, but please buy a copy of things instead of pirating them. The book only costs six dollars in ebook form, less than 20 for a paperback. You'd be helping to create more, even better entertainment.

Now, for those who know nothing about the book, well, here is a link to it on Amazon: http://mybook.to/TheOnesThatStare. You can read the book blurb there. But basically, if you like to read thrillers, or if you enjoy the films of Alfred Hitchcock, then you might like my novel. I have compared The Ones That Stare to such novels as The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, The Woman in the Window by AJ Finn, The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. It grabs you with a twist at the very beginning of the book, and never let's go after that. You follow Darien Coby, an average guy married to a fantastic woman. But now his wife is GONE, and he's going crazy just trying to figure out what happened to his love. He knows but one thing: one of his neighbors knows what happened, but who? And why haven't they said something to him about it? Now, he must go the extra mile to figure out who knows the truth about the situation. This is the 2020 thriller that you simply can't miss!

Still not sure if you should spend your hard-earned money on an author you've never read before? Then follow me farther down the rabbit hole as I introduce you to one of the main characters in a brief excerpt below. You can meet Bernedette below.

But before that, as for what is next for me, I have another book coming out later this summer entitled blEND (that's the word blend; yes, the capitalization is part of the title). It is a horror novel in a similar vein to Jordan Peele's Get Out. I am currently looking for reviewers with an open mind, who aren't offended by reading about racial and social issues. I also am still planning another season of The Writer and Extraordinary for later this year. And I hope to get the novel blind out as well, come this December. And finally, I look forward to releasing my first full-fledged romance sometime next year, entitled Lips Like Strawberries. Look for that, hopefully, next February!

Well, this tour has been very short but sweet. Whenever I embark on a book tour, I always go into it with as little expectations as possible. No matter how much planning and communication you do with others on the internet, you still never know what you're going to get. I hope that you all enjoyed the little bits of insight here and there and aren't afraid to comment below or leave a review of my book on Amazon, Goodreads or another social media site. I look forward to it all. Thank you for coming today, and I'll see you again soon!

An Excerpt from The Ones That Stare

The clock read 7:35, yet Darien hadn’t returned home. He used to have long days that started in the earliest of dawns and stretched beyond dusks. Lately, he hadn’t had such days. Lately, he had busied himself with getting home to his wife. Now, with her gone, he hadn’t need for punctuality.

Plus, he had other business to attend to for the night. Still, his absence on the street made Bernedette curious.
“Hm? Why isn’t he home yet?” she asked herself as she stopped in front of his house and stood on the sidewalk. She stared through his front window. Favorite program? Not tonight. Tonight: static.
“Come on,” she bade her dogs. They crossed to her house and slipped through the freshly locksmith-ed front door just as a car rolled onto the street.
Kaduunk! A gallon of oily, dishwater-brown rainwater splashed from asphalt reservoir. Nearly hit a jogging Eli. He flinched at the beads of filth flung his way. The driver inside cringed, “Sorry! Sorry! Really sorry!”
Eli chuckled, shooed her and continued his jog—apology accepted.
The woman made a left into Darien’s driveway, parked, exited the car.
Meanwhile, Bernedette undid her dogs’ leashes and rubbed the giant Danes’ coats. Sarah sniffed and scratched at the front door, prompting Bernedette to ask, “What, honey? What’s wrong? We just came from outside. You need to go again? Huh? Does some little doggie need to go again?”
Woof! A no.
Bernedette pushed up erect, like an upright Buckingham soldier. Peeked out her living room window. Her eyes captured what her dogs’ noses already had. “Who is that knocking on Darien’s door?” she mumbled with sleuth’s intent.
It was Hannah, the woman she saw that night but hadn’t met. Her brows arched with recognition at the shape of the woman from behind. Bernedette had once thought her power of recognition a special gift. No matter how bundled-up someone was, or how they stood or walked, or what hair they had, she could recognize them. Face not required. “It’s that girl,” she breathed. Every young woman a girl to her. She let her tongue nip at her lip in salivatory anticipation. She had to know what happened. She had to know why she was there.
Ba-rooo! One of the dogs howled desire. Bernedette kept her gaze on the girl.
At Darien’s house, Hannah rang the doorbell, knocked twice and called, “Hello? Hello? Is anyone home?” No answer fated to come, she waited an over-polite five minutes before walking back toward her car.
“No! She’s leaving.” Bernedette’s voice vibrated against the pane. She hid half-eyed behind the curtains. “Hm? What should I do?”
Woof! One dog responded.
“You’re right. I should learn who she is.”
Woof!
“Alright, I’ll feed you first. Come on! Hurry, before she leaves!” Bernedette dashed to her kitchen and yanked open the fridge. She stopped to grab her heated forehead. Winded. She hadn’t jogged, let alone dashed in over a decade. Wet dog food, out. And into two bowls.
She crumpled the dog-food bag, threw it on the counter, and ran back to the front in time to see the car pull down the street.
The race on, she jetted out of her front door, locked it behind her, and glided to her car. In less than a minute she was in her car, gripping life into her steering wheel. She caught up with Hannah’s car. “How do they do it in the movies?” she asked herself. “Three cars behind. Yes, that’ll do. That’ll have to do. And what will you say to her once you stop? What will you say…?”
Bernedette hadn’t a proper plan. She hadn’t accounted for any scenario other than her succeeding. What if the girl didn’t stop someplace where she’d be able to speak with her? What if she went straight home? What if she caught on to someone tailing her and called the police? A thousand what-ifs—questions left for fate. She only knew she needed to speak to her.
The harder she thought, the fewer good ideas came. She’d have to make chasmic leaps: total stranger, to knowing about the girl’s association with Darien, to interrogating her about Sayen. Were she a social genius, she’d ably manage the transitions. Had she a brilliant light? Yes, once. It shone through from spirit to skin. However, a social genius? Never that. But she needed to know some things and the girl had the answers.
Ten minutes morphed into 20. Twenty into 28. Thirty-five… Forty-two. Each minute cost one strong beam of sun. Finally, it was a mariner’s-blue night. A murky dew spritzed each car. Lefts. Rights. More lefts. More rights. A never-ending drive. It welcomed doubt. Oh, she must know I’m following her, otherwise why the insane driving pattern? She must know. She must. No, you can’t back down from this. Press it, even if the situation becomes tense. What do you say? What do you say…?
More lefts. More rights. As they drove—one safely lagging behind the other—Bernedette let her mind wander to darker twists. Who drove like this, taking short roads and sudden burst-turns to get off main streets? Where was this mysterious girl leading her? Into a trap? A trap of what doing, of what kind? Who was this girl leading her farther down a rabbit hole she so willingly tumbled into?
And then the girl pulled into a parking lot. And Bernedette knew most of her questions would soon meet answers.
Hannah parked in front of a lingerie store and went inside to escape rain’s pattering. Look over her shoulder uncomfortably? Flee helplessly into the store? Feel her neck-hairs stand on end? Hannah did none of that. In all that driving, she hadn’t noticed her shadow.
Bernedette sat in her car for a full minute, waiting. Through storefront glass, she watched Hannah browse. “Come on, Bernedette. What the hell are you gonna say to start a conversation?” Nothing came. How do you politely coax someone into an interrogation? Maybe you couldn’t. “Oh, just do it already!” she commanded herself.
Out the car! Into the store. Darker inside than what it appeared from outside, the store had medium-dim mood lighting, mimicking lingerie-wearing conditions. Bernedette spotted Hannah perusing along the right wall, drifting toward the rear. The old woman then looked to the left to see the cashier ringing out another customer. The cashier welcomed Bernedette to shop the scant-fabric-ed wears.
With one scan of the store, the aging dog mom knew this store wasn’t for her.
They call this clothing? Wouldn’t even cover a toothpick, she thought, rubbing her hand over a thong. Years, decades even. It had been so long since she felt… She was the type of woman who knew she’d never love another man after her husband. She hadn’t the strength to start over, be so vulnerable with someone again. One was more than enough.
“Don’t lose focus, Bern. Keep your mind on task,” she instructed. Eyes up, she scoped the store. Hannah’s eyes focused solely on the wall racks in the purple and black-coated store. Bernedette saw opportunity. Little time for stealth. She bypassed the mid-store displays—aromatherapy and massage oils—and traipsed to the back. She feigned looking at the wall-hung bustiers and leather garter belts.
“Come on. Closer. Closer,” she willed Hannah, hoping to bump into her to break ice. Just a little...
Bump!
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I should’ve been paying closer attention,” Bernedette apologized.
Reciprocated smiles. Hannah slid around Bernedette, saying, “It’s OK. Aisles are pretty tight.”
“Ha!” Bernedette stepped back but kept eyes on Hannah. She made sure the girl could feel her gaze tickling her neck and behind her ear. Her best acting job in years. Bernedette waited for the girl to turn back toward her. Then, she squinted, saying, “You look familiar. I’m sorry, but have we met before?”
“Um… I don’t think so,” Hannah shook her head. She stopped flicking through clothes and stood dead-faced with Bernedette.
“Pretty sure I know you, or I’ve at least seen you somewhere before.”
“Well, I do some acting. Maybe you’ve seen one of my commercials? I was in a gum commercial a few years back. Oh, and I’m in a Prilosec commercial. I also do some stage—”
“No, that’s not it,” Bernedette said, her façades more convincing than Darien’s. “Wait, I know. I saw you at my neighbor’s house a while ago.”
“Your neighbor’s house?”
“Yes, 8495 Stillborn Street. You know it, right? Sure you do, you were there,” Bernedette led.
“Hmph,” Hannah hummed, neither offended nor defensive. Bernedette intrigued her.
“Yes, it wasn’t too long ago. I saw you dancing with him, through his front window.” Her smile evaporated and turned into an observant Colombo eye. She edged razor-close to creepy, witch-like.
Hannah grinned, replied, “So you like to spy on your neighbors?”
“Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! I apologize if I made you feel intruded upon. I happened to be passing by at the time and saw you inside… in rather familiar clothes,” Bernedette backtracked.
“It was a joke.”
Bernedette chuckled, then added, “Bernedette, by the way.”
Hannah looked at the old woman’s outstretched hand. Shake it. Eh!
Changing her mind, she smiled and said, “Hannah.” Hannah believed Bernedette had a diary face. The kind of face that made you want to spill your secrets even when you hadn’t known her for any time. Beyond matronly, motherly kindness. She had a warmth about her that reminded of a roadside inn in a torrential storm. Her spirit a safe haven for wayward travelers caught in weather’s fury.
“Hannah, it’s nice meeting you. So, you spent some time with Darien? You know his wife, too?” Bernedette resumed faux-browsing.
“Darien? Hm? So that’s his name? I thought it started with an M. Anyway, no I never met her,” Hannah explained.
“You didn’t know his name?”
“Couldn’t quite remember. It was foggy.”
“Hm? No offense, but it seems like you would know the name of your date,” Bernedette led the witness. Come on, honey. Confirm it was a date.
“Date?”
“Sorry, it looked like a date, what with the dancing and all.”
“No. No, it definitely wasn’t a date. He… I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Hannah said, resuming perusing.
“It’s fine. I guard secrets.” Hollow, ghostly words. For a brief second, Bernedette sounded guilty of something heinous. Like she already knew what happened to Darien’s wife. Like she needed to hide her own secrets. “Well, he hired me for a job. God, now that sounds sketch. He didn’t hire me for that kinda job. I’m not a woman of the night or a street vixen—”
“A hoe?”
Taken aback by the old woman’s blunt verbiage, Hannah pointed at her and nodded. Bernedette then asked, “Then what are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“An actress. Plain old actress. He hired me to act like his companion for a few hours. Didn’t wanna be alone.”
“Alone. Hm?”
“Said it was for some therapy. Looked a little depressed and I had sympathy for him, so I did it. Money helped, too.”
“What about his wife? What’d he say happened to her?”
“Not much. He simply said she was gone.”
“Gone?” Bernedette said with a smile and a lilt in her voice.
“Yeah. I got the feeling she was dead.”
“Dead?” The word saddened her into a new low. My god, Darien, what were you thinking? Three minutes of standing silence. Contemplation overtook her muscles. She ran through every scenario that could lead to Darien’s expressed status about his wife. She had suspected ill of Darien. This helped cement her feelings.
Bernedette stood in that catatonic state for so long that she didn’t hear Hannah’s calls to her. The girl finished shopping and departed with one purchase. When Bernedette looked up again, she spotted Hannah exiting into hard rain. “Wait.” She sprinted after her.
Hannah stopped in the thundering wetness, keeping dry beneath her umbrella. Her older counterpart had no covering. It didn’t matter. She needed only answers. She asked, “Those clothes, they weren’t yours, were they?”
“No. They were his wife’s. He wanted me to wear them.”
“Why?”
She held up her hands and did air quotes as she said, “‘To be more convincing’ – His words. I guess he wanted me to look like her. Sorta wanted me to act like her, too.”
“To look and act like her?” Bernedette mumbled to herself. It made no sense. None of it made sense. She’d think about it all the way home.
At home, she stood on her front stoop looking across to Darien’s house as she saw one light on in his bedroom. What had he done? What hadn’t she done?

To Be Continued In… 

The Ones That Stare 

Out now!

* * *

It’s Finally Here!!! #TheManOnTheRoof #TMOTR #BookBlogTour

It’s Finally Here!!! #TheManOnTheRoof #TMOTR #BookBlogTour 

It’s finally here, people. This Friday, June 22nd, my psychological mystery-thriller The Man On The Roof will release in ebook Kindle format on Amazon Kindle. It’s been in review for a few months now and, I’m not gonna lie, some people are loving it. I have been comparing it to Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train meets Big Little Lies. Others have seen hints of the once-popular TV show Desperate Housewives. It has complex male and female characters and a narrative that draws you deeper and deeper into its mystery. It will captivate you. 

Currently, I am on a book-blog tour across a slew of lovely book blogs on these-here interwebs! If you join me, along the way you will be gifted with author Q&As, interviews, guest posts, book excerpts, and reviews. And the tour doesn’t stop on June 22nd. It keeps going into July. After the main launch tour ends on July 6th, I have a special Spoilers Q&A planned for July 22nd, and another interview on the 24th! You are going to want to be there. 

You like a good book. You love a good mystery. Hell, you love good TV and film based off of good books, which means you’re probably anticipating HBO’s Sharp Objects coming out in July (post on that later). But sometimes you feel that you’ve seen it, been there, done that. How many drunk women are going to solve a murder? You want to be entertained this summer, right? Not just to be entertained, but a bonding experience, something that will get you talking with your fellow readers. And chances are high that you’re going to risk your time and pocketbook on buying some over-hyped book that comes from the bigger publishing houses and that will cost you near 30 dollars, then regret it when you can’t get into it. A digital copy of my book will only cost $7.99. That’s about as much as you’d spend on two specialty burgers at a fast food place, only my book lasts longer and doesn’t give you high cholesterol. It's even cheaper than the digital copy of that $30 book (12.99 to download a file? You're kidding me, right?) Is it self-published? Yes. But, at one point, so was Fifty Shades and Andy Weir’s The Martian. When you buy my book instead of that other expensive book, one day you’re gonna look back and say that you were part of something great before anyone knew about it. And you want to be part of something great, right? 

Then take the risk. Order my Kindle book. Be entertained! Solve the mysteries! You're not just buying a book, you're buying an experience. You are buying a bond with others who have read the book. And if you don't like it, you'll still have $22 left to buy that other, more expensive book. But I think you're going to feel glad that you got your own copy of The Man On The Roof. 

Well, what the heck are you waiting for? The book is currently on preorder here: The Man On The Roof. 

You’ve read the comparisons: Gone Girl, Sharp Objects, The Girl on the Train, Big Little Lies, Desperate Housewives. Mysteries await! Go buy a copy. 

Still not convinced? Then start following the tour! It’s already started. Click on the tour graphic to make it bigger. Catch up by clicking one of the links below! 

13th: Duffy The Writer blog interviews me here: DuffyTheWriterBlog

14th: Jan's Book Buzz gives you a cool review: JansBookBuzz

15th: Snazzy Books has an interesting Q&A: SnazzyBooks

16th: Reel Literature Should be THE blog for film & book lovers: ReelLiterature

17th: Princess and Pen has an interview for you: PrincessAndPen

20th: Sarah Rieveley has an interview for you here: Sarah'sBookCorner 

Until next time, see ya! 

P.S. Oh my god! You haven’t blogged in so long that... Did you forget how to blog? Michael, you were supposed to have a quirky, ridiculous, humorous, referential, eye-roll-inducing sign-off for your readers. Why didn’t you reference any cool pop culture in a sarcastic way? Frickin’ Ted Cruz just beat Jimmy Kimmel at basketball. You’re wasting that opportunity!! “Uh... I’ll come up with a better, more creative sign-off next time, maybe?”

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To Write A Novel #NaNoWriMo #HalfwayMark #TMOTR

To Write A Novel #NaNoWriMo #HalfwayMark #TMOTR

This picture courtesy of the NaNoWriMo commission

Writing a novel can be pretty hard, y’all. Like... yeah! For those that don’t know or who have never tried, writing a full-length novel is very difficult and can be not only taxing on you mentally but quite a pain physically. And that’s even if you’re writing something you enjoy writing, something wonderful, something light and free and fluffy and lovey-dovey! Piecing everything together to create an easy, memorable and enjoyable reading experience for those future readers you one day hope to have is no easy task, but it is sometimes in this difficulty that we stumble upon (mental stumble upon. Wait, what do you call that...? Thunk upon! That sounds right) brilliance. The one drawback to brilliance is that you never quite know if it counts as such until it’s out there for others to see and consume. But that doesn’t mean you have to fret. I believe that all writing, even the fairly bad stuff, contains nuggets of greatness. That means that for you NaNoWriMo’ers this month, even if you struggle to get to your goal, even if you end the month without having completed your task, remember that you most likely have written something great.

Remembering back two years ago, I embarked on my first official (that’s very important) NaNoWriMo in November of 2015. It was a helluva month as I also decided to take on the unnecessary added challenge of NaNoBloPoMo or, wait... Is that what it is? That doesn’t sound right. NaBlo...? National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo! Ha!). For those that are unfamiliar with it or don’t blog, NaBloPoMo is where you post at least one blog post everyday for an entire month. Now, if you’ve read anything else on my blog, you’ll know that it is not like me to not be very verbose. Trying to both do my writing on my novel while also doing the whole blogging thing was extremely hectic and nearly pushed me over the edge. Somehow I managed to accomplish both in a whirlwind that saw me complete the month with at least 30 (don’t know the actual number. Would have to look back to check and I’m rather lazy and too busy to do that right now) blog posts and a 118,000 word first-draft mystery novel.

That novel is TMOTR (#TMOTR for social media) but you can call it by its god-given name The Man On The Roof. It was only the second mystery novel I had ever written, yet all the while writing it I felt a surge of energy that continued to push me forward each day and make me cognizant of its weightiness. I felt I was writing something that would be amazing. Now, granted, I am quite often delusional according to my therapist Bert the trash man who absolutely swears he’s just a trash man but is older, black, always has great nuggets of wisdom and totally fits the archetype of the magical negro (I swear that brotha went to Hogwarts or somethin’). But even with that I still couldn’t fight the feeling that I had created something great, which is one of the biggest reasons that kept me pushing through the project, pushing through the small snippets of writer’s block (though I find it insanely difficult to actually get writer’s block when you’re constantly writing and working on at least two different projects at once. I know it sounds crazy hard, but try it. It frees your mind) and the mental fatigue of crafting a story; pushing through the emotional roller coaster that was (and still is) my relationship with each of the characters and growing to love and loathe them as the time went on; charging forward through the quandaries and quagmires of questions that came up in the plot and how to get from point A to point C while making point B the most dramatic; creating a world and setting for not just my characters to live in but creating enough empty space for the reader to slot his or her thoughts and feelings into the setting too, in order to fill out the rest of the environment; battling to create not just narrative but atmospheric narrative; making sure each voice was right, each character just distinct enough; and figuring out a way to lure the reader deeper and deeper into the mysterious darkness while keeping them hooked on every word, every sentence, every idea put forth in the book. It’s a heck of a lot.

Now, two years after having written it, I finally am ready to release it and am looking for reviewers of this book that I think is similar to Gone Girl, The Girl On The Train, Big Little Lies, In A Dark, Dark Wood and the like. No, I wasn’t editing this the whole time. I worked on the editing for three weeks after I finished it and haven’t touched it since but only now do I think the timing for the book is right.

That’s neither here nor there. What is important is that I know your plight dear NaNoWriMo’er and for all you first-timers, I can say that it is wholly doable. Is it a challenge? Of course. And no, nobody expects you to finish over 100,000 words (which is only an achievement if the book is actually good). But push yourself further and harder than you ever have before.

First Mystery Suspense Thriller

Coming In 

December

OK, now it’s that cringe-worthy time where I give you unsolicited advice. I know. I hate getting that kind of advice because it seems to almost always come from some smart-butt who thinks he or she knows everything or knows something that I don’t, and just wants to rub it in. If you don’t want to take it that’s totally fine, but I do find that sometimes this stuff helps. Sometimes it helps to hear something you already know from someone else to sure-up your own confidence and sometimes there truly are things that you didn’t think of that another person has thought of and that can be helpful to you. So, here it goes, my tips on getting through the month.

First, I know that this month, for many, is so often not really about finishing the novel but about word counts and lengths, and as we get deeper into this thing, we’re gonna start seeing more and more people posting about how many words they’ve written in one day or one week, or how close they are to the minimum goal of 50,000 words. Ignore it! Ignore it all. Is it good to keep track of just how much you’ve done, you’ve accomplished? Of course. And taking a peek at how many words you’ve logged in a day or over a week does help you to gauge your productivity level, but don’t let this sidetrack you. In fact, don’t let the word count get you down at all. This is totally gonna sound like bragging but I assure you it is not and it’s truthful (you can go back through my blog and check if you’d like). So don’t judge.

Anyways, as I was doing the posts and the novel writing, and we did have the Thanksgiving holiday on which I am always the primary cook for my family, I still also had yardwork to do. As some of my long-time readers may know, I am a vegetable gardener and all-around environmentalist (Go #CaptainPlanet) so I am really big into composting. Well, that year I foolishly, for the first (but not last) time requested a truckload of leaves be delivered to my house. Leaves which I would use both for mulching all of my aesthetic gardening beds, as well as mixing with coffee grounds, lawn clippings and food scraps to set as the base for my compost pile. The picture below is of the leaf pile.

The pile was taller than me, as long as a full-sized Sedan (maybe longer), and made of the driest, most compact assortment of leaves you can get. Most were maple leaves and they smelled amazing, like warm maple syrup. We had 70 degree temps that week in November which is unseasonably warm but pretty great because it would get dark hella early and it was the week of Thanksgiving so everybody was home and off. Moving the leaves alone, it took me four days to get them all moved from the front of my yard to all around the property where they needed to be. That was four days of not writing at all on my novel.

Whatever time I did get at the end of the night went directly to my blogging and sleep. And another full day of Thanksgiving-ing (uh... That should totally be a word. Yes, I know that thanksgiving in and of itself is technically a verb. Don’t bother me with minutia, reader) where I also hardly wrote anything. So out of 30 days I only wrote for about 25 of them. My point is that if I had stressed over word count and how much I got done during those days (I may have blogged about stressing a little), I would have volunteered my brain for writer’s block and never achieved my goal. How many words you have doesn’t matter as much as how complete the story is and how good those words are. Granted, there is some importance to the word count if all you’ve previously done is write short stories, but even then, I’d say don’t look at the word count until you are satisfactorily finished with the story, then hopefully you still have a week of time left at the end of the month to make some changes or additions within the story.

The Writer Seasons 1-3 Out NOW

on Amazon Kindle

With that point made, I feel everything else should flow easily. Remember, while this month is certainly focused on finishing a full novel, it’s not really about finishing a full novel, but telling a story as best you can in a way that pleases both you and a potential reader one day. Have fun with this thing. Remember that the writing is supposed to be the fun part, even if you are purging anger, resentment, depression or the like out onto the blank page (The Man On The Roof #TMOTR was written in a rage-fueled miasma that stemmed from continuing to be a failure at writing and all-around, and having poor timing in my life). Don’t stress over words. Take risks with your writing, try new things, let the story take you where it wants to venture and be willing to make mistakes. But—this is something that most other authors won’t tell you because everyone is a huge worshipper of the editing and revisions process—make your first draft as near to perfect as possible. Yes, you’ll have plenty of time to go back and tinker and fix and add and subtract, but one of the reasons why this month is so challenging is not because of the word counts or things of that nature, but because it wants you to challenge yourself to write a novel and not just slop together some pretty words that occasionally make sense. If you’re gonna stress over anything, stress over the tightness of the narrative and the believability of the characters (not even so much the relatability as each reader will pick and choose who they relate to based on their own biases).

Another big nugget of advice: DON’T TRY TO EDIT ANYTHING DURING THE MONTH!! It’s tempting, I know. And some people will tell you that it pays to be a perfectionist and if you just go back and tweak things, it’s OK. No. Stop before you do that and remember this thought: there is more brilliance deleted by authors than ever makes it into their novels. Quote from me. Michael Stephenson. If you’re a seasoned writer you should already know that you should never be deleting anything anyway, unless it is a grammatical error like mispalings and such. But sentences that don’t sound right in the flow of things, dialogue that you don’t particularly care for and even entire scenes that you think can be cut—keep all of it in your first draft. And if you want to make an edit later, then mark it as something you want to take a look at, then write whatever you wanted to edit it to be (if you already have something in mind) just below your note, but don’t delete it. And don’t slow down your mind’s conscious stream of thought to go back and question yourself if this one particular word is the right particular word in that sentence, because you could come back to the novel in a month or two and realize that your first choice was the best choice but you can’t remember what it was.

As for outlining and framework construction, I will leave it up to you. I will tell you that while I had been thinking of TMOTR for a while, I hadn’t had a proper outline and, in fact, the original idea I had for the story was drastically different than what the novel ended up becoming. Sometimes I have an outline but sometimes I simply leave prompts for myself, something which I recommend all writers do. The prompts are generally questions or brief synopses about what I want or think should happen either next in the story or what I am comfortable writing next. Again, this month should be about getting into a particular groove of comfort that allows you to open your most creative mindset. Some good questions are: what a particular character learned from what you wrote that day, when you want a crucial event to happen, how you see the characters interacting with each other at the end, and et cetera. Those are just examples, but it is important to think like a reader would which is going to actually drive your narrative. If you can get into the mind of your reader before they are in their own mind, and anticipate what they will think when reading your work, then you can reward them by fulfilling their expectations or yank them deeper into the story by throwing an unexpected twist at them. And yes, sometimes the best thing to do is to let yourself fall into a bout of writer’s block because right after that is usually when the magic happens, but never get concerned about not being able to get any words down on the page.

Extraordinary Season One Out NOW!

This month’s pursuit is solely to make you a better writer, make you a faster thinker and more agile wordsmith. It is meant to challenge your perspective on how you write from start to finish, including the planning process. So get messy, make mistakes, and most of all, have fun! And some of the best times you’ll have during this process will come, surprisingly, not from the writing, though that will be pretty amazing. Some of the best times might very well come from social media and any other offline/real-life socializing groups that you have where you can get together and talk about either writing or reading or both. NaNoWriMo is one of the few months where you don’t have to be or feel alone in the writing process. Yes, writing is often solitary but it doesn’t have to be this month. Go to wherever other writers are and share your stories of what you are doing. Give updates on what you are writing, what characters you’ve fallen in love with, which ones you absolutely loathe, or how the plot has changed from what you thought it was originally. And don’t just share triumphs, share failures, the mundane, the quirky, the questionable and the like. If you’re struggling with a particular section, don’t agonize in silence, take it to Twitter or Facebook or Goodreads or wherever and ask questions about that situation there. Yes, while there is always a bit of paranoia about idea theft, there are still tons of authors out there willing to help you solve your writing problems. And sometimes it’s just good to commiserate with others trying to achieve the same thing. Make friendships and more importantly, make enemies, too. Seriously, haven’t you always wanted a nemesis? You could totally have one and have that person be a writer just like you. It’s perfect!

Anyway, that’s my two cents. To all my fellow writers and authors who dare to participate in the 2017 November NaNoWriMo, I wish you good luck and happy writing. And for anyone interested in reviewing my novel The Man On The Roof, I would love it if you did. Here’s a description:

“There was a man on your roof.” And so starts the psychological intrigue. A small, quiet, Northeast Ohio suburb plays host to a murder when the body of a teenage ne'er-do-well is found hanging from a street banner on a summer morning. At the end of the lane where the murder took place, live five different couples and one old man. Neighbors make for convenient friends as all five couples consider themselves one collective group. But someone here is a murderer. Lies, betrayal and twisted deeds come to light as fingers point and eyes narrow. Who's lying? Who can be trusted? Who has a secret worth killing for? As spouses turn against each other but one thing is for sure: The boy's murderer was trying to send a message. The murderer will kill again.

A psychological mystery thriller in the vein of Gone Girl, The Girl on the Train, and Liane Moriarty's Big Little Lies, The Man on the Roof is told in 10 distinct voices that dig into the inner marrow of the lives and secrets that the people at the end of Shady Lane hold. Designed to be re-readable and keep readers on their toes, it will keep you up at night and have you second and third-guessing every theory about who done it and why. You might want to take notes on this one because you'll surely be talking about The Man on the Roof (#TMOTR) all year long! If you'd like to review it, let me know in the comments below and we can set something up. Currently, it will only be an ebook but hopefully within six months I will have hard copies.

Otherwise, I wish you all as much success as you can stand this month and beyond. Write something cool, and if it isn’t cool don’t fret, nobody actually reads books anymore anyway ;).

Check out my 5-star comedy novel, Yep, I'm Totally Stalking My Ex-Boyfriend. #AhStalking If you’re looking for a scare, check the YA novel #AFuriousWind, the NA novel #DARKER, #BrandNewHome or the bizarre horror #ThePowerOfTen. For those interested in something a little more dramatic and adult, check out #TheWriter. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 are out NOW, exclusively on Amazon. Stay connected here for updates on season 4 coming summer 2018. If you like fast action/crime check out #ADangerousLow. The sequel A New Low will be out in a few months. Look for the mysterious Sci-fi episodic novella series Extraordinary on Amazon. Season 2 of that coming real soon. And look for the mystery novels The Knowledge of Fear #KnowFear and The Man on the Roof #TMOTR coming this fall/winter. Twisty novels as good as Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train, you won’t want to miss them. Join us on Goodreads to talk about books and TV, and subscribe to and follow my blog with that Google+ button to the right.

Until next time, (looks at book on coffee table) “Wow! Have you read that book?”

‘Uh... Yeah, totally.’

“I love the part when she takes the paddle and starts spanking the guy and he turns into a dragon and—”

‘Well, actually, I haven’t read it at all. I’ve just been using it as a coaster for my tea mug. Dat tea be hot and delicious!’

(exasperated head shakes)

P.S. Yes, I know that was a long sign-off. Don’t judge me. I should be judging you, reader. You totally know that you have at least one or two books that you have been meaning to read but is now serving as a cup coaster somewhere or is sitting somewhere in plain sight to make you look well-read. For shame! Well, at least drink a cup of tea for me. Cheers! I’ll think of a better, shorter sign-off line next time.

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Thank God I'm Not Related #TheFamily #ABC #3WeekRoundUp

Thank God I'm Not Related #TheFamily #ABC #3WeekRoundUp

Picture courtesy of ABC

Uggghhhh! Ohhh myyy gahhhh! This show is so tedious. So, I know that I've been back for a few weeks now, but even in that time I haven't gotten back to the regular entertainment stuff, talking about TV, movies and books (#ANewLow coming soon; season 2 of #TheWriter coming this summer), but that's because I've been focused on the gardening stuff because food is really important. Also, the entertainment I've been seeing is just so... (sigh!) I don't know what to say. Frankly, a lot of the shows have really ticked me off as of late. 

To start:

The X-Files reboot/continuation(?) was so disappointing and bad that it felt like Marlon Wayans or the Farrelly Brothers wrote it as a parody series. The comedy: far over-the-top from the original; the acting: (I'm looking at you David Duchovny) completely phoned--no, texted in; and I am flabbergasted at how a six-episode season could still manage to have at least one filler episode. That were-lizard thing? What da hell was dat was? Admittedly, I feel ashamed that I actually liked that episode. To top it all off, the ending was a big middle finger to the fans. Nay, it was a multi-million dollar Rick-rolling perpetrated by FOX.

I'm Hiding My Disdain For Being Here Behind These Sunglasses

I thoroughly enjoyed Galavant, but it has such little hope of coming back for another season or ever being anything other than a cutesy little show in January that it's hard to support.

American Idol has very decent, eclectic talent this year but the producers and network have decided to rush it so much that it's hard to immerse myself in the excitement it once used to bring in its hay day. With the exception of Clarkson's emotional Piece by Piece, I haven't found a memorable season-making moment, hence why this is its last season (I hadn't seen it in at least three seasons). Sad. I thought it would be bigger.

Limitless has become heavily so-so from episode to episode. Same goes for Grey's Anatomy (#GreysAnatomy). And speaking of Shondaland, I am a big fan of her but lately I've been getting really irked by her shows and her comments on her shows. As I said way back at the beginning of the season, Grey's Anatomy was never fully about Meredith. It was a love story about finding one's tribe, rather than finding one's self. The whole ultra-feminist tone it has taken where every week it is about the feminist cause does not fit what the show used to be. I am still DVRing the show, but I haven't watched in weeks.

How to get away with murder (#HTGAWM) has still been quite good. But if any show of Shonda's was built for femininity and woman power, it was Scandal. I knew that from the first season pre-premiere advertisements, then realized it would have a love story. But even knowing that, I feel... It's hard to describe. I feel like this show has lost its way so much, that I can't see it getting back to greatness, doomed instead to limp to its ultimate series finale where a woman is made president (Shonda said she already had an ending in mind when she started the show; I guessed that this would be it, and it would probably be Mellie, especially after that ill-advised #ImWithHer Hillary Clinton commercial. Again, I am not going to say I support any candidate, but I will say that having the spokesperson/main character/actor of a show make a campaign commercial like that can alienate a fanbase that disagrees). 

The epitome of this loss in direction came from the comments from Shonda herself when asked about Olivia's shocking and rather off-putting winter finale abortion. When asked when Fitz would find out and how it would effect their relationship, she responded, and I'm paraphrasing, "Does he have to?" What? Putting aside the fact that Shonda has literally used abortion as part of the "strong/independent/feminist" trope in every one of her shows (Yang got rid of her baby with Owen, Private Practice talked about it ad nauseam), it's just lazy writing to suggest that this issue will never come back up. If it's a non-starter, then why show it to us? Writing 101 teaches us to only put in what is needed unless in the case of satire, irony or sarcasm. It really does nothing more than allow us to hate or at least strongly dislike this powerful, independent black woman, especially if it was meant as a character-building/defining moment. What's she done? Broken up a marriage because she thought she was in love, helped rig a presidency, helped to get countless friends murdered, helped to cover up murders, allowed herself to be pawned in death games she has always come out unscratched in, dumped the guy she thought she was in love with because it inconvenienced her to have the responsibilities of real love and aborted his baby. She started as a white hat. She's now nothing more than the epitome of a (here comes the hate and backlash) black bitch--yeah, I went there. And I don't even like the term and know how offensive it is, but am shocked to see how well it fits. At least when other shows do it, we know we're supposed to loathe a certain character, but are we still supposed to like her and root for her, because that's how it was posed to us at the beginning of the show. As an aside, in a review of the first season of The Writer (#TheWriter) the reviewer said that he didn't feel sorry for the titular character, however, I never made it a point to try to force the reader to feel a certain emotion about the character. That's where this differs. She was billed almost as an angel, a savior of complicated people who would still be suspected terrorists, disgraced lawyers, battered wives or stuck in a hole without her. And now, well, she's "on her own journey," ~Shonda's words.

There's also the NBC shows, mainly You, Me and the Apocalypse which... (sigh). Man, I've sighed way too much writing this. I might have to write another post for that show even though it's far past the #3WeekRoundUp phase.

Fox threw Lucifer at us. I knew the Devil was a lie but I didn't know he was more boring than Grandma Beatrice who does nothing all day but take eucalyptus baths, talk about her stories, smoke menthols and refuses to take off her raggedy gray wig she bought in '92 because she swear up and down it make her look like Aretha Franklin. That raggedy dead cat on yo' head don't make you look like no Aretha Franklin! I digress. The only two really good shows oddly enough both have the words American and Crime in them. American Crime Story: The People Vs. OJ Simpson and American Crime, with the exception of the latter's finale, have been exceptional. I don't know what the heck that American Crime finale was. Hectic, directionless and nearly subverting the entire season. Still, I expect both of them to be competing in the best dramas Emmy/Golden Globes categories next season, because anything else would be a crime in itself. Yes, that was easy wordplay. What, was I not supposed to take that chance? You should know me by now.

And then there's this show. Wait, did I seriously spend that much time talking about all the other shows before even getting to this one? And I wasted a second sentence pointing that out? Wow! I must really not like this. Yes. That is correct. To start, multiple people on multiple sites have commented that this show is based on or similar to the real-life story of some French man named Adam who pretended to be a lost/kidnapped boy who had been missing for over a decade. Not only was he not the kid, he was considerably older than the kid as he was a young-looking fully grown man. Admittedly, I wrote a book a little similar to this premise which I haven't yet released, but trust me it is not this and that is not clouding my judgment.

The premise: a boy goes missing and, after ten years of being gone, presumed kidnapped and dead, he returns alive. While the family is glad he's back, not everything is sweet roses. Not only has a lot of drama happened concerning his case--his previously jailed kidnapper is released a few days after he arrives back home--he has come back different, and not just the expected different. Through the first three episodes, it is shown that many of the things he supposedly remembers as a child have been studied, learned either from repetitious rote-memory, practicing of past mannerisms and speech cadence (he studies a video of how he used to talk at one of his birthdays), or through keen observation of photos. He really knows nothing about who he used to be or what his family was truly like outside of reports. Sounds good and involved, right? Spuuuth (that's me blowing wind and spittle through my lips like a spoiled child)!

OK, I must first get the elephant out of the way (by the way, did anybody see that adorable clip of that pink albino baby elephant? I'll see if I can find the vid for you) and say that while I want to support black actors and actresses as much as possible, the woman they got to play the role of the lead detective is just not very good. Frankly, I want to see everyone in the entertainment industry do as well as they possibly can because I want good entertainment and I don't like putting people down when it's not that good. But nothing about her character rings true. For one, she's too young. Yes, Adam's case propelled her to the detective position, however, that was ten years ago when she was still in her mid-to-late 20s. She should at least look in her mid-30s. She looks 20 and not an older-looking 20 but a Hollywood 20. You know, the kind that studios cast as teenagers or college-age kids. If you slapped one of those cheap blue policewoman's sexy Halloween costumes on her, you would think she just came from a Frat party. And if that isn't bad enough, there's little authenticity in the way she acts. Every line came off as a line: forced and sometimes cringe-worthy.

Quick! Which One Of Us Was A Teenager 10 Years Ago?

The partial failure of her character lies within the hands of the writers. On the first episode she sits to have a meeting/interview with him and the family as the case has now been reopened and they need to catch this kidnapper. Well, as she asks "Adam" about what he remembers surrounding his captivity, he tells the story of a tiny room that the man used to molest him in--a detail his mother definitely didn't want or need to know in great gratuity. During that, he mentioned that he saw a dragon that would breathe fire at him.

At this point you're probably nodding or waffling your head side to side, saying, "So? Sounds reasonable." It does, doesn't it? An eight or nine-year-old boy seeing a dragon. They'd know what a dragon looked like, some by that time can even draw a pretty decent dragon. Naturally my first thought, as I'm assuming (I know, really bad to do but I have to do it here) would be most people's first thought is that the boy was talking about a ceiling painting, poster or even a tattoo on the man's back. But noooo! Somehow this eight or nine-year-old knows deeply about symbolism and metaphors and, as far as the detective knows, has constructed this dragon metaphor in place of what he really meant to say. He really meant some smoke stacks that came from a refinery or mine or something deep in the forest that glows red in the evening. Whaaaat? Yeah, that was my reaction. I still don't know what offended me more: the fact that she never bothered to look for a place that had a real dragon painted or posted in a room or the fact that the writers totally went with this and allowed her to find the supposed kidnappers hovel in the woods precisely where the metaphor led her. In either case, this has now set up the notion that anything said or done by either the boy or anyone else not only can but should be viewed as a metaphor. If the boy tells them that the guy smelled like manure, instead of it cluing them into him working on a farm is it going to mean that he is actually a bomb maker that uses the nitrogen in fertilizers to work for a local terror organization? You see the leap in logic? Ridiculous.

The Accused Kidnapper, Not The Real One

Then we have the stuff about the rest of the family. The mom is running for governor, the dad is a best-selling author who wrote a book about dealing with the grief of losing his son. He's also a philandering depressive lay-about that was sleeping with the cop. Listen, I knew that the father and the young cop had an affair but the scene in which they have sex in the interrogation room when anybody could walk in or peep through the blinds or maybe even look at the video that so many IR's have these days was too much. Not only that, but there was so little passion in it and they have zero chemistry that it felt forced to the nth degree. The druggie/drunkard brother is the only one suspicious of this boy, and the sister manages her mother's campaign. She also blames herself and her bigger brother for losing Adam as she was supposed to be watching him when he disappeared. She was an irresponsible teen, yadda yadda yadda, now she's a conniving adult. Though, through the structure of the story--a borrowed and oft-used trope from Lost, the show is told in both current and flashback segments (I know, Lost didn't invent it but still)--she is shown to have plotted with her father to frame the creepy neighbor who went down for the boy's kidnapping/murder. Why she's that demented has yet to be revealed but suffice it to say that she's the most interesting character on the show, even though you would expect it to be our big star. 

Red Rover, Red Rover...Wait, Nevermind

That's right the mother, played by Joan Allen of... well, Joan Allen fame (I ain't got time. Check her stats!), up until three episodes in has been mostly useless character-wise. There was some vim and raucousness from her in the third episode where she went off-script during an interview about getting back to the campaign trail after Adam's return, but much of that has sizzled. The show seems to have billed her as the one we are to root for, but even as the doe in the headlights, she fails to garner real sympathy in both the present and the flashbacks. Even as her emotional matrix widens, she feels more political and cold in her home with her family than she does out in the public. Isn't she grieving? Or is she even happy her son has returned? In seeing tons of local (remember, Ohioan here) and national coverage of the Amanda Berry, the other two and Ariel Castro's story, the parents were always near deafening tears to learn that they're daughter was home. I know, the case of Berry is different, but still I can't help to think that the parents' reaction would be much closer to a roller coaster heart drop than the sorta Annie Hall "La-Di-Da" that we've been getting.

After all of that, this is so incredibly hard for me but I'm going to have to give it a D. Yikes!! Like I said, I hate being critical of anyone else's work because I know first hand just how hard the creative process is, but this isn't good... so far. Maybe it'll get better as the show builds and the mysteries deepen, however, I'm not sure that the strangeness of the creeper and suspected kidnapper lurking through the scenes of the show will keep you wanting more each week. Yes, it does bring up the question of who the boy really is and if he's telling the truth, but the presence of the potential kidnapper coupled with the boy's sudden appearance actually makes you wonder more, "Wait, if the boy isn't Adam, but he was kidnapped and molested by this man, then why would he lie about who he was? Isn't that a good enough story on its own? What would he get from lying about who he is, if he truly is a victim?" The only possible answer that makes sense is that he was a child no one ever reported missing, thus was free to endure such torture and only lied because he thought no one would care otherwise. Or he was completely unrelated just like in the real-life case of the French guy, but then how would he know of the metaphorical dragon and the sex cave, unless the two are strangely unrelated.

I shouldn't have to say at this point if you should be watching or not. I think you already know my opinion on that. While ambitious, this show raises more eye-rolling production questions than gives answers to actual mysteries. It feels like a half-hearted effort from some of the industry vets and a futile attempt at brilliance from some of the younger actors trying to hone their craft. For the love of goodness, where is Secrets and Lies? At least that had Ryan Phillippe and Juliette Lewis.

What do you think? Am I being too harsh on this show? Have you even seen it? If so, do you like it or no? Will you keep watching? What's been your favorite part of the show so far? And who do you think the boy is? To me, he actually looks similar to the supposed kidnapper. Let me know in the comments below (hint: click the no comments button if you see no comments).

Check out my new 5-star comedy novel, Yep, I'm Totally Stalking My Ex-Boyfriend. #AhStalking

If you’re looking for a scare, check #AFuriousWind, #DARKER, #BrandNewHome or  #ThePowerOfTen. For those interested in something a little more dramatic, check out #TheWriter. The full first season is out NOW exclusively on Amazon. If you like fast action/crime check out #ADangerousLow. The sequel A New Low will be out in a few months. Join us on Goodreads to talk about books and TV, and subscribe to and follow my blog with that Google+ button to the right.

Until next time, "What do you mean Mark Watney's missing? It's seriously gonna take four years to get him back? Oh! Well... has anyone called dibs on his Bose system? I just wanna borrow it for four years. I'll give it back when he returns. So long as he doesn't come back all weird and... Johnny Depp-like. "

P.S. Did I make two space references to end this post that had nothing to do with space? Yeah, I did. I was looking for something that would pair well with the premise of the show: person being lost, person suspected dead actually being not dead, person coming back and being completely different. Frankly, I'm proud of myself, and you should be proud of me. I remembered that horrible Astronaut's Wife Depp movie that no one does. I'm givin' you people a gift.

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What Am I Missing? #NaNoWriMo #NaBloPoMo #TMOTR

What Am I Missing? #NaNoWriMo #NaBloPoMo #TMOTR

Banner courtesy of NaNoWriMo Organization.

Three? First... 10... mine? Hmph? Oh, right. I'm supposed to be writing a post right now. The thing is I'm sort of gone in the head. It's late as I write this. It's late on Thanksgiving Day though you won't read this until Friday or a year from now (hello, future fans! Do you know the riddle?). I am almost done with TMOTR 92,000 words and suddenly I've hit a snag.

That horrid and unsettling feeling that all writers get at some point, many times on one project, even multiple times during the day, I now have. That's right, fellow writers, I have reached a point of writer's block. Don't worry, it's mild. I still have a few things I know how I want to write, but I have the sneaking suspicion I'm missing something... but what?

For starters, I rarely get writer's block anymore. I remember back in high school I used to get it all the time, even abandoning projects because it was too hard to think of the next thing to unfold. It is within those times that I think the truly committed (or crazy or both) buckle down and tell their imaginations how it's going to be, not necessarily reinvent their writing style but their process. It wasn't until my late years in high school did I start writing nearly all stories nonlinear-ly. Don't get me wrong, most of them unfold in a linear progression, but as I've said before, I write what I can write when I can write it. Then the multiple stories thing came in during college. Sometimes I would work on up to eight projects at a time. I really hope that doesn't sound like bragging, I'm just saying what works for me. Rarely have I ever broken from this accept for in one recent case while finishing my epic serial novel Unrequited due out sometime next year.

#KnowFear

To be clear, I haven't had writer's block on a novel or screenplay literally in three years. Now? Something is missing I'm sure of it, but I can't figure out what? For the month I pushed aside my usual routine, working only on the novel and the blog to try completing the #NaNoWriMo and #NaBloPoMo challenges. So far, it's slowed my novel progress but I still think I'll finish, but I can't shake that feeling. TMOTR is a mystery. I don't often write straight mysteries. I have one coming out soon entitled The Knowledge Of Fear, but that's not for a few months. So, since I am stuck for the first time in a while, I turn the floor over to you subscribers and casual readers. Leave a comment below or send me a tweet on Twitter and tell me what you think makes a great mystery. Or tell me what you think the basic structure of a mystery even is. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm even writing a mystery at all. I don't know.

Anyway, hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and if you are one of those people who happened to venture beyond your front door into the shopping culture of America for Black Friday deals, you can also leave a comment about what you got or if you really found any deal actually worth the effort. Tomorrow, expect my gardening post finally. I'll be writing that right after this one.

Check out my new 5-star comedy novel, Yep, I'm Totally Stalking My Ex-Boyfriend. #AhStalking

If you’re looking for a scare, check #AFuriousWind, #DARKER, #BrandNewHome or  #ThePowerOfTen. For those interested in something a little more dramatic, check out #TheWriter. The full first season is out now NOW exclusively on Amazon. If you like fast action crime check out #ADangerousLow. The sequel A New Low will be out in a few months. Join us on Goodreads to talk about books and TV, and subscribe to and follow my blog with that Google+ button to the right.

Until next time, "gobble, baby. Gobble, baby. Gobble, baby, gobble!"

P.S. If you get that dance song reference make yourself forget it so that brain power can be focused into something else like learning a new language or figuring out how to get every last squeeze of meet out of those sausage roll packages. Every single time there's a little bit of meat still left over after I squeeze and squeeze. Eh! I'll think of a better sign-off next time.

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