#destroyeroflight

I finally got myself something fairly professional.

On it, you’ll find:

preorder links for The Good Counselor (now in paperback!!)

content warnings and tropes for all my books, and a…

NEWSLETTER!

Because honestly, I’m tired of playing the social media game. I can’t stay ahead of the algorithms on five different sites AND have time to write. And it’s frustrating for you to sift through it to find what you want.

So if you want infrequent messages from me about book news and releases (like The Ineffable Seeds, The Thrice Plowed Field, and a planned short story compilation), hardcover release dates of the first three books, or if you want to read unpublished goodies (like the next 🌶spicy🌶 chapter of Roses in the Rain) then add your email to the link. Opt out at any time and I won’t bug you too much, because you don’t like getting a ton of emails and I don’t like writing them because self-promotion is hard for me to do and generally sucks.

I plan to drop the next chapter of Roses in the Rain as a newsletter exclusive in a few weeks, ahead of the March 22 release date of The Good Counselor. So if you sign up before then you’ll get to read it.

I’m alright.

Despite already having gotten extremely ill in March with what I strongly believe was COVID-19 (but couldn’t get tested for because, you know, already broken US healthcare accelerated by the inept Trump regime), and having difficulty breathing ever since, despite wildfires enveloping the hillsides just 8 miles south of me, despite the orange skies midnight at noonday and maybe an impending civil war, I guess things are peachy?

I mean, personally I’m ok. I have a home, I have a great kid, I have written books and there will be news on the show as soon as Hollywood unfreezes post-pandemic.

There’s always the part of my brain that’s just a loop of 24 hour screaming when I see the state of the world and the abyss we seem to be sprinting toward, but then again it’s that way for everyone right now. I also hope that you are well, in spite of everything.

Anyway, here’s a giraffe I saw at the zoo yesterday, five feet over my head, sneaking a bite of a palm tree.