I’ve found inspiration. A lot of it. Too much of it? The crazy bits of it. Tiny little fire in the pit of my rock full of guts or something cynical that I wrote … Ideas. So many fucking ideas. I have so many ideas floating around. They aren’t really anything tangible yet. I mean I have project after project. But soon, there will be a new project. A bigger project. One that will probably rip the remaining assumption of sanity from my eyes like a toddler through a smash cake. But worth it.
Second: Shout out to my Baby Sis and Heathenous Beaverhousen … You two, you know what that’s for.
Third: HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS BATMAN! This is ridiculous! But Exciting? I’ll say one thing, and not many people will know what this means… But! Quinn.
Give me two months for the final draft of Death of a Creative Soul to be finished and in print. And then I’ll jump up on the internet, like a fleshling at a brothel, and show you some of the goods. Just enough. And then hold out my grubby little hand for some of your hard earned cash and judgement.