Hi, pandemic survivors. I’ve been gone from this blog and author website for so long, when I sat down at my computer to write this update, I couldn’t remember the name of the website.

It’s my own name.

I was going to write the next installation in Corporate Torsos-related non-fiction blog content, but then I thought maybe I ought to update you on personal matters. I see other authors doing that with their newsletters and I admire them for keeping it real.

I was out of the country for about a month from mid-January into February. When I got back, I hosted an awesome leap year extravaganza as practice for my upcoming book launch extravaganza. We went to hibachi, we came back to my place for a dessert house party, we went indoor skydiving. It was fantastic. Best leap year ever.

While I was gone from home, I got evicted. I tried to find a new place to live while I was away, but nothing worked out. I had my eye on an emu sanctuary Air BnB to stopgap when I accidentally leased an apartment through an automated application portal. So I moved into that accident.

Then the plague hit. I traded blogging for journaling so I could contribute to the written record of pandemic life.

Here’s a cross-section of entries:

  • Slept 12 hours
  • Virtual drawing competition w/Emily: rainbow, tree + unicorn, tomato, heart
  • Play Boggle
  • Work on puzzle
  • Zoom kickboxing class, give up halfway through and work on puzzle
  • Climb on kitchen island to see what that’s like
  • Break kitchen island
  • Go out to car to get tirejack and jack up kitchen island
  • Make horrific Frankenstein mug brownie that fizzes in mouth for unknown reason
  • Read restaurant menu for 45 minutes
  • Put dishes away
  • Scream into pillow

Anyway, things are pretty good here. I’m on track with my final edits, and I’m going to start sending advance copies next week (let me know if you wanna be my beta reader!); we’re less than two months away from publication date. Releasing an apocalypse-themed novel in the middle of an apocalypse-themed time is just about the worst thing a writer can do for sales, but then, I should have thought about that 24 years ago when I started this novel.

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