If you loved The Unmothers, good news! I wrote another super weird folk horror book just for you. Children of the Wrong Heaven is coming! 2027!

"Trick or Peat!" I yell at the children. "Peat?" they ask, but it's already too late. They belong to the bog now.

But hey, at least I drafted another novel.

I hate homeowner Halloween. What do you mean you’re “unexpected plumbing repairs?”

My small son looked up at me and said "fist bumb." Obligingly I extended my fist to meet his. As they were about to meet he stuck up two fingers, pressed them to my closed fist and exclaimed "now it's a snail!" My God. The children are truly our future and the future is so bright

Alright, punks. Where are we getting sew on patches? I have a jacket that needs to be cooler.

I'm going to steal AI's job- lying to rubes about what's poison.

It's very funny when you've grown up in a manipulative household and someone tries to blame shift or gaslight you and you become the old master with your robes fluttering in the wind, tip toe on the highest tower like "you fool. Do not bring me this weak-ass kung fu."

Oh the Boy Who Cried Wolf cried Flying Car? So sorry I'm not satisfactorily enthused.

I think if an assassin said "just so you know, this isn't personal" it would actually make me feel a little better.

You can sometimes enter a strange sort of Zeno's Paradox at the end of novels, where you continuously write thousands of words toward the planned ending and it just seems to get farther away.

I’m teaching a horror writing class at Goat Local in Delaware, Ohio Friday, October 30th, from 6–8 pm. Open for any skill or interest level. Workshops have filled up before, so get your tickets now! checkout.square.site/merchan…

For the record, I am anti capital punishment but especially anti live broadcast firing squad.

*stomps feet* I don't wanna do copy edits! I wanna make new fun words!!

Avoided stepping on approximately 200 of these little guys today so this one got temporary air jail. Look how tiny!!!