How are we doing, friends?
I've been busy this week. It feels like there's a lot going on. I wrote a new prologue for Gun Girl Gracie this week, but as of this writing, I've not even had time to go back through it for its initial rewrite. Right now it's just sitting there, like an itch I can't quite scratch.
Anyway. Let's talk.
This clip didn't make the cut for AFF's social media this week. But I still liked it, so here...
If you want to catch the rest of the show, you can find that on YouTube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever.
By the time Exercise Period rolled around, Frank knew what he had to do. The only drawback? He’d need some help. And a trip to the infirmary. And also, potentially, an addiction to a powerful but dangerous hallucinogenic combat drug. All of this assumed that he could pull off a covert distillation in the first place. But Frank wasn’t about to let Anton run wild with the Neural Disruptor — nor with Jaynie, for that matter. Not when a little of the old mad science might change things, even here, stuck within the grotesque confines of Sing Sing Correctional Facility.
I've got two right now, and while I can't put either full quote on the book's actual cover, these are still really cool. They're going in there somewhere.
Friends, I've been busy as all hell this week.
My wife and daughter Hannah went to Bar Harbor, Maine, leaving me to water the plants, watch the dog, and mind the house. Not a big deal, really, except that I've also been working, swimming, and gearing up As For Football for Week 1 of the college football season. Thankfully it rained pretty consistently through the back half of the week, but finding an extra half-hour to water the plants became a real challenge on Monday. In addition to everything else, I wound up doing three podcasts this week, two for AFF and one to promote AFF and The Return of Dr. Necropolis.
All of that was great, but it definitely kept me jumping.
Thankfully, things slowed down later in the week, giving me enough time to breathe a little.
It took nearly three-quarters of an hour for Tiffany to peel off her cocktail dress, climb back into her Titania gear, and pull her too-long auburn hair back into something she could legitimately wear as an investigative professional at a crime-scene. Showing up in her old gear would be bad enough, she knew, but if she did it with her hair done up from the baby shower, she’d never hear the end of it from Casey fucking Walcott.
I want you guys to appreciate how busy I got this week. It's college football Week 0, both AFF podcasts ran over an hour this week, and I'm looking for a cover artist for The Return of Dr. Necropolis. And let me just note that as much as I love that title, "The Return of Dr. Necropolis" is long and a bit cumbersome for an actual book cover.
Sigh.
If you missed it, we had a truly outstanding AFF Army Football Show this week. Shannon Horne's husband Paul Horne joined us for an in-depth dive into Army's O-Line. I can pretty much guarantee that you've never heard anything like this before.
It got surprisingly mathematical. Paul went straight for my engineer's heart.
Anyway. I am trying to write here a little more often, so here goes.
Tiffany stumbled going up the stairs to her apartment. She loathed wearing heels, but she’d been in them for almost four hours now, and the light outside her apartment had gone out almost two months ago. She needed to call the super about it, but she’d barely been home enough to make the phone call. Maybe it would’ve made more sense to fly, but she felt bone weary, and using her powers took effort. With the traffic around Stamford, the drive out to her sister’s place had taken almost two hours, and then she’d needed to summon the energy to look happy watching all those mindless suburban housewives fawn endlessly over Dorothea’s pregnant belly.
I *finally* built a little newsletter subscription project on Mailchimp to support my new book. I added about 50 folks from my existing contacts list to get it started. But I might not have added you!
If you'd like to get maybe one email per month keeping you up to date on all the happenings with The Return of Dr. Necropolis and the newly created Stratford City Press (a division of As For Football LLC), then sign up here:
Yes, I have a literal "Cousin Jesse". No, this is not him.
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| This is actually Uncle Jesse. That's a different guy. |
“But why are we going back?” Jaynie asked, her voice quiet. She stood at the window, looking over the city. She’d crossed her arms and stood holding herself, her posture rigid. Without looking back, she said, “We got away clean. Why isn’t that enough?”
“We talked about this,” Frank said.
He tried to fight off his frustration but couldn’t quite manage it. Despite all his carefully laid plans, he could still feel fear smoking off his wife’s body. It fouled the atmosphere like some noxious gas.
He hated seeing Jaynie like this. He had things under control. She should know that by now.
Well friends, it seems like superheroes are suddenly cool again. What other conclusion can we draw from the reality that Spider-Man: Brand New Day is by far the biggest movie of the year, while Disney itself just seemingly relaunched the entire Marvel franchise to thunderous applause at their D23 show?
