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Screw all this wishy-washy feel-good emotion-character bullshit. SF writers need to blow more shit up.

Considering that the first draft of this book was just over 200K, I find it incredibly admirable that I’m getting it down to 140K. This is going to be the leanest fantasy epic ever. Trust me. Have I mentioned recently how great it is to have a job with long down periods where I can

“I found these stamps as a child, and I have been waiting all my life to have someone to send them to. I never did have someone.”

It’s another beautiful day in Chicago-towne.

No shit. I’d like them to replicate this with a bigger sample, though – and include men. What’s up with all these fucking “weight loss” studies if the “obesity epidemic” has to do with *all* Americans? Ah, that’s right, because women are still targeted more than men. Evil Womanly Fat Takes Up Too Much Space

No bleeding, no depression, no yeast infections… ah, why, yes! It’s time to hit the road again. Did an experimental jog tonight: slow, short, easy and rather dismal. The second half turned into walk-jog-walk-jog-oh-fuck-it-walk. The IUD started banging at my insides toward the end, just little twinges of occasional cramping. Not bad (I took a

Some people just don’t know when to retire. The red bandanna and the hunter’s knife are back: Sylvester Stallone is set to reprise his role as Vietnam vet John Rambo, 17 years after his last outing. Stallone, now 58, will don combat trousers for a fourth time, this time to slug it out against American

In the past, his parents had no clue when he bought a treat at school. Now, thanks to a new school-lunch monitoring system, they can check over the Internet and learn about that secret cookie. Health officials hope it will increase parents’ involvement in what their kids eat at school. It’s a concern because federal

New love can look for all the world like mental illness, a blend of mania, dementia and obsession that cuts people off from friends and family and prompts out-of-character behavior – compulsive phone calling, serenades, yelling from rooftops – that could almost be mistaken for psychosis. As an SF writer, I wonder, could you start

“Love can’t save you Padme. Only my new powers can do that.” “Hold me like you did by the lake in Naboo.” And I’m thinking, “Sweet fuck, why?” To his credit Hayden Christiansen really gave it his all. He told the story he wanted to tell, he worked as best he could with the lame