Landslide Brought Me Down
It just wouldn't be Christmas without a pithy post here at Choose Death. I’ve few posts in my pocket that I’ve been meaning to skip out onto the internet, so this is my break to set up for the next couple weeks. No real plan here, so bear with me.

Back in Wyoming the roads are drifting over with snow, and my little brother and dad just finished delivering firewood to widows.

True story.

Man, that makes me grin.

Needless to say, Harley, the Evil Son, is less of an asset than the rest of the immediate family this Christmas night. I’m typing from the outskirts of Boston, home of the tea party, having spent Christmas with H’s family. For those of us that rage against sleep, it isn’t lost on me that with every keystroke the end of 2007 draws a little closer. Smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em.

2008? Well, it will be Ed and Marce’s first year as full-fledged novelists. Jeff’s book will drop, Kam’s game will finally make it out of beta. Jaleigh will have her baby, and I’ll bring a stepladder to Gen Con so that I can hug Eric properly.

Yeah, it will be a good year. I’m staring down the barrel of a couple mammoth conventions, and for the first time it look like I might not behave like the patented “Deer in Headlights on an Interstate.” If you’ve ever seen Harley at a convention, you know he alternates between binary positions of Fight or Fight, and by fighting, I mean bear hugs.

But back to 2008.

The writing projects are all coming along at a devil’s clip. Hope to post some art concepts and release dates soon, but you know how that goes. Suffice to say that by August we should have some new releases to add to the cover gallery. The novel continues to creep along at a snail’s pace, but for all the right reasons.

But enough of that. It’s Christmas night, and you should all be with your families, not staring at a computer screen. Or if you can’t be with your family, you should at least flirting with the waitress at Denny’s.

“But, Harley,” you might point out. “What the hell are you doing staring at a screen tonight, you hypocrite?”

And therein lies the rub. On Christmas, for no better reason than that I’m a sappy little undersized runt, I feel the need to tell my family that I love them. I called the ranch today, but here’s the place I can get in touch with the rest of my family: all you punks, misfits and loners that might happen to call yourselves Deathers from time to time.

I love you, I hope you’re all well, and I damn sure miss you.

Keep warm,

"Who's my little minion? Who's my little minion? You are!"
Oh ... and if you haven't seen "Gnome and Tiefling" yet, you need to. It hasn't shown up on Youtube yet, so the only place you can see it is on WotC's site, which is fine but means you'll need to log in or register. Anyhow, without further ado:


This post is targeted at Spackle since he was engaged to Natasha Tiefling for a while, but the rest of you should check it out too.


Ozo Review

The sold-out show went until 3 in the morning, the rappers refused to drop the f-bomb because there was a kid in the crowd, and at one point they turned up the house lights and insisted everyone introduce themselves to someone they didn't know.

Oh yeah – and they ended the show (and every show) by marching down into the crowd with horns, drums and cowbells, circling up and playing the last song amid a pit of rabid fans.

Good people. Good times. I'd drive down to Denver to see them again tonight if I wasn't behind the 8-ball on a deadline. If they come through your town, do yourself the favor and get in touch with your inner mariachi-punk.



The Sound of One Hand Typing
Funny how if I'm updating the blog a lot, you know I don't have much going on in my writing life. And if I go silent for a month, it's usually good news for my career, but makes for lousy reading. And a blog w/o updates is a blog w/o readers.

Anyhow, tonight we're taking a break from work and writing to enjoy the company of friends and some ska-punk-latin-funk from the L.A rockers Ozomatli:

I'd post more, but damnit, there's just no time for love, Dr. Jones. Hope you all are warm and dry, this Friday night. Or if you're at the Ozo show, at least warm. Ya se fue!


Edit: It was a life goal to take Spackle to an Ozo concert. Hasn't happened yet, and I always regret the chances I've missed. Still, we aren't done yet ...