The station opened her eyes.
Machines whirred, the only sign of life in a still world. A beep filled the air like a delicate bell. It would sound again inside her for another summer, untended by her crew…
The station opened her eyes.
Machines whirred, the only sign of life in a still world. A beep filled the air like a delicate bell. It would sound again inside her for another summer, untended by her crew…
My big writing update this week? Another short story accepted!
Picking through the rubble of 2020 has led many to reflect on their current situation, self included. For some, it meant leaving their job. Starting a new career. Exercising more mindfulness. A little quiet contemplation in a (hopefully) more serene environment…
An unwitting test subject sheds their skin to become their true self. Meet Aurora, superhuman, Augment, but no hero…
Fear soaked Reggie’s shirt. Well, humidity was mostly to blame, but the fear was there. He’d traveled the world on the government’s dime. Of the places he’d been, the humid ones were his least favorite. Remote ones, his second least. This place was both. But the fear was a regular hazard of the job…
Another one from my short story collection, Empty Quiver. The gritty superhero world of Crimson Son is dark here as I continue to critique our notions of heroism and examine the human shortcomings of those we bestow that name upon.
I often worry my work is misunderstood. That instead of asking people to critique the darker sides of society, they believe I’m celebrating it. Nuance seems to be a thing lost to humanity lately. As always, I’ll let you decide.
From my short story collection, Empty Quiver, based on my Crimson Son superhero universe. A word of warning – my comic book characters provide little escapism. They are dark products of war and conflict meant to offer a sobering look at ourselves and not a glimpse into a bright-eyed world of heroism. Reader (and listener) discretion is advised…
This story of mine was published earlier this year with The Junction, a Medium publication. It ended up getting very little exposure and was one of my last times to publish on that platform. Medium was an interesting experiment in the democratizing of publishing, for a while. Then, it seemed to become like every other algorithm-driven story platform where controversy, prolific posting, and glomming onto trends became the only means to achieve visibility. I’m terrible at all that. And as this story shows, following trends of any kind might not always be the best policy…
This was one of my earliest publications with another disappeared venue, Writer’s Haven. I haven’t saved the best for last, more an indicator of how far I’ve come on this journey. This was a story inspired by a comment from my wife’s grandfather. Brief, slightly mysterious, it goes for a slow revelation I have yet to master. And if you squint real close, you’ll see Hurricane and Hound…
Thanks to the kind folks over at The Junction, my latest story has found a home…