Oh, man, this thing I’m writing, it’s one word away from clicking over into official novel land. And it’s almost two-thirds done, maybe, hopefully:

Would jam through to the end in a few days, but I got a script-thing and a story on February deadline, and, I mean, February is coming up pretty fast . . .

And, for kicks and grins, here’s the playlist I’m cueing up many times a day, since . . . I don’t know: January second, it maybe was? Somewhere a…

Which, before I get into it, let me say: I’m the last dude who should ever do a how-to on anything, except maybe writing a novel or a story. But maybe not even that. However, got one of those 3/4 scale 1-Up Galaga machines for Christmas, and of course love love love it. However? I’m six-plus feet tall, so this of course doesn’t quite work:

( basketball artfully included for size comparison )

Anyway, a quick search of YouTube showed there’s plenty of heigh

Every time I go to stand up or lift something and I feel all creaky and broken, I think back to all this, and remember how much I prefer groany creaks and leftover breaks to stitches and recovery and PT:

I keep these handy/on my phone, so that I won’t get lured into a pickup game of ball, or a hackysack circle—What can go wrong, right?—and so I won’t lift furniture or jump off this ledge because i…

is the author of 22 or 23 books, ~300 stories, and all this stuff here. He lives in Boulder, Colorado, and has a few broken-down old trucks, one PhD, and way too many boots