Hey, things could always be worse, I tell myself. I could be riding in the back of a light pickup truck in the middle of hell, as seen above. Where riding across a mine, being hit by a small IED or shot up by small arms would be quick and fatal.

I’m not there anymore, and I probably never will be again, for which I give thanks. I don’t give thanks for some holiday where indigenous people helped out their new neighbors, and their new neighbors proceeded to turf them out of their ancestral lands. I’m not giving thanks for that, nor am I looking into the past and nursing grievances about stuff that happened long before I was born.

That’s not my style.

Rather, on this Thanksgiving I’m thankful for present-day, tangible things.

Survival through this horrible plague, for most of those I know. A full belly. A warm house. A decent glass of wine, and the prospect of a delicious meal with amazing desserts. Eventually I’ll get a new truck, although I must say this year of shortages and stress has given me a surprise or two.

Thankful that most of us have survived, although some have not, with fatalities from various causes. Bad stinking year, after a bad year. Sooner or later the worm will turn, although it hasn’t yet. I remind myself that perseverance is one of the most important of traits. Endurance. Patience.

I try to exercise these things. To remind myself that I’ve lived through bad times before, and eventually these will pass like all the others.

So, on this Thanksgiving I really am thankful. Not for some set-piece Charlie Brown Thanksgiving BS, but for real reasons, and not make-believe.

Maybe that’s the real utility of this holiday.

Not for some white-washed version of what happened in the seventeenth century, but for what we experience today.

What are we thankful for?

There is so much, even in the midst of a terrible epidemic and societal upheaval.

Check it out. I’ll say what I’m thankful for. You guys can chime in if you want.

A good family. Good friends. A cool reader base. A meaningful craft in retirement. A body not blown to bits. Medical care, physical and mental (Thanks, VA). Dry roof. Full belly. Good roads. No gunfire nearby.

The list goes on.

So, yeah. Thanksgiving doesn’t have to be just some story about the Pilgrims and their Native hosts.

Thanksgiving can be every stinking day.

I encourage you all to be thankful, because for the vast majority of us, we have a lot to be thankful for. I mean, come on, Netflix. Burger King. Walmart. This is a land of plenty and ease!

Do your best, guys. And think about things to be thankful for.


The Shithouse Lawyer

First, a disclaimer. I am not advocating whether people should get a COVID shot or not. That’s your call, but I would suggest you do. No, what I am talking about is a dangerous erosion of military discipline. Read further and you may get my drift.

OK, those of us who spent a day or two in uniform knew this guy, the Shithouse Lawyer.

The Lawyer was the dude or dudette who was always trying to find some obscure alternative reading of the regulations to get them out of some onerous detail or to keep them a few steps ahead of Command, who frequently were looking to punish or otherwise penalize the Lawyer.

This person thought they were smarter than everyone around them, the world was their oyster.

Until they finally ran into some sergeant who insisted that yes, the regulations are what they say, and as a soldier you have to follow lawful orders.

“Lawful orders.” There’s another hook that the Lawyer would try to use. I’ll give you an example.

I had a soldier tell me once that I couldn’t order him to place his life at risk. “That’s an illegal order, sir!”

I begged to differ, and he was shocked when I told him that I could use deadly force to coerce him to follow my LEGAL orders and no one would say boo to me. In fact, I could be prosecuted for NOT exercising Command Authority in combat.

Never forget that ultimately military command results in death; but let me give stark illustrations of legal, as opposed to illegal orders.

Legal orders: “You, you and you. Form a rearguard so the unit can escape.” “You, you and you. Load up, go take that pillbox.” “You, you and you. March through this area where we just lit off an atom bomb.”

Illegal orders: “You, you and you. Line these civilians up and shoot them.” “Herd these women into a comfort station.” “Give the minorities in the unit the worst jobs.”

Surely you can see the difference?

A commander must frequently give unpopular orders; a commander frequently suffers under idiots. It doesn’t matter. Soldiers are supposed to have discipline; it is what separates them from civilians.

Soldiers can’t pick and choose which orders they may follow, so long as they comply with the regulations and the laws of war, it matters not.

You may have noticed my shot record above, listing no fewer than eight Anthrax vaccinations. People may not remember, but these vaccinations were deeply unpopular when issued, and they were also experimental in nature with a proven deadly biological warfare agent. Very bad stuff.

Lawful order?

Yes. As it was explained to me in detail nearly twenty years ago. So I lined up with hundreds of thousands of others and took the shot.

Because I was a soldier. Because of discipline. Because of duty.

So imagine my surprise when I saw this headline on Yahoo News.

Well, this soldier, and a general officer in the Oklahoma National Guard is ultimately a soldier, should know better than to play Shithouse Lawyer with the regulations; i.e. a Soldier on Title 32 orders (State) doesn’t have to follow Defense Department directives until recalled to Title 10 (Federal).

Alright, so soldiers in the OK National Guard don’t have to follow orders until federalized? How does this make sense?

Over their left breast pockets, what does that velcro tag on the OCP uniform say? US Army, or OK National Guard? (Hint. “US Army.”)

We soldiers do not get to pick and choose which lawful orders and directives we follow.

I’ll leave you with what a good First Sergeant once counseled a young Sergeant in regard to following orders.

FIRST SERGEANT: “So, Sergeant, you violated orders by doing x.”

SERGEANT: “Well, yeah. We thought it was the right thing to do.”


SERGEANT: “Yeah. The guys and I.”

FIRST SERGEANT: “So, you let a group of privates talk you into picking which orders suited you?”


FIRST SERGEANT: “Let me give you a scenario. You tell one of your little buddies they need to go stand in that watchtower.”

(The First Sergeant points into the distance. The Sergeant looks over.)

FIRST SERGEANT: “You know. That one the snipers like, right? Dangerous, huh?”

SERGEANT: “Well, yeah…”

FIRST SERGEANT: “What if your soldier says “FUCK YOU!”” (The 1SG roars, the Sergeant flinches) “Asshole, we don’t get to pick and choose orders, and your soldiers will fucking notice and call you out!”

I watched this exchange, and I agreed wholeheartedly with the grizzled 1SG.

I still do.

Discipline. You either have it, or you do not.

Huddled in a ditch

Why did I post a pic of me gunning today.

Easy. It has a direct bearing on today’s discussion- drones. John Birmingham’s recent post on his website got me thinking about the damn things.

I have some degree of outdated experience with battlefield drones; nothing makes you feel more naked, vulnerable, then knowing that a Predator or something is loitering overhead. Loitering and waiting on the excuse to drop ordnance on some jerk’s head. Why, you ask, would I feel vulnerable towards friendly drones? The flying, whispering death that made my long vigils behind a machine-gun superfluous?

The picture above is one such occasion; even in broad daylight with clear fields of fire there was always someone on watch. Always. Even with Preds, Apaches, bombers, fighters, etc. flying overwatch. You could never let your guard down at any time, no matter what.

I was hideously aware of the capabilities of our air cover, whether human or not. When aviation assets hit a “target,” well, the results are dramatic. Disgusting. Think about it. 25mm rounds meant for armor hitting some poor bastard with an AK. The list goes on, increasing in destructive power. I always thought about friendly fire, or some horrible mistake. Or of me, putting myself in the enemies’ shoes. Creeping up in the pitch dark, only to be dismembered by something I could not see before I came into range with my shoddy and poorly maintained arms.

So, with almost zero surprise I paid some degree of attention to the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan, where the Azerbaijani forces decimated the well-armed and equipped Armenian forces with ingenious and clever deployment of drones.

I’m pretty sure in these pages I’ve discussed the future usage and deployment of drones, and I definitely talked about it in my first trilogy, the Valley series. Of course, in my original trilogy I talked about drone employment as science fiction hundreds of years into the future, but obviously drones changing the battlefield is happening right now and in the recent past.

Our decision makers need to get on top of this. Immediately, or western forces risk being badly outclassed by future opponents in an asymmetrical battlefield where the enemy could care less about vested interests, political rewards, or an entrenched “manned combatant” mafia. By the “manned combatant” mafia, I mean all the old soldiers who think that war as they knew it in their youths will continue into the future. Particularly vulnerable to disruption are our expensive, manned aerial combat assets, although armor and infantry forces are vulnerable as well.

In my books I have made the case for upgraded or armored infantry, but I am hardly an innovator in this regard. Heinlein wrote of this in 1959 in Starship Troopers, so did Haldeman (albeit on the other side of the ideological paradigm) in 1974 with the classic The Forever War.

I’d make the argument that none of us are wrong, at least in regard to the utility of modern infantry in powered, mechanized suits backed by a companion AI. The powered fighting suit will be the only defense against the killer robots and drones of the near-future battlefield. Nagorno-Karabakh is a warning, a very stark warning, for conventional forces.

And then we can talk about aerial drones. So far we haven’t seen killer drones truly sent up against manned combat aircraft (on a large scale), but the day is coming. We are getting strong hints now. Pilots blinded by unknown actors using lasers, mid-air incidents with drones around airports, and perhaps even the rise of documented UFO incidents with US Military aircraft. Who says that these might not be weapons tests by an adversary?


A combat drone costs a lot less than an F-35, for sure and certain. Do any of us think the Chinese, the Iranians, or other potential adversaries are stupid? I certainly do not. My own uncle paid the price when a million Chinese soldiers surprised the living hell out of Western forces during the Korean War; who knows what evil surprises future enemies will have for expensive and top-heavy Western forces?

They are studying us. Noting weaknesses and failure points. Listening to old generals when they set policy, the tone, for our defense.

This is what I would do if I wanted to dismantle the Western defenses on the cheap.

Use drones, AI, and invest in the best damn missile swarms that money could possibly buy.

How would you like to be in a USN carrier task force with several thousand hypersonic “vampires” inbound?

I wouldn’t want to be there, for the same reason I always hated tanks. It’s not because I despise tanks or tankers. On the contrary. It’s because I recognized early in my career that everyone wants to kill the tanks as soon as they are spotted! Sorry, I’d rather take my chances huddled in a ditch with a battle rifle than be inside an enormous tuna fish can, and some happy a-hole has an equally enormous can opener with a name like “Javelin” or “Hellfire.”

No thanks.

So, I believe the age of armor is nearly as obsolete as the expensive fighter-bomber, for similar reasons.

Bang for the buck, guys. A robot, a drone, and a missile cost far less than soldiers, crew members. And it isn’t just the unit cost. Let’s break down the true cost of a soldier, at least in the West.

A vignette. Do you know that the US Department of Veteran’s Affairs just finished paying the last of the pensions from the US Civil War (1861-1865)? In 2020!

This means that the compounded costs of say, the Afghan War, will not be completely written off until possibly 2175, assuming current lifespans stay intact.

Soldiers, human beings, are expensive as hell. Munitions are not. Think of the logistics, as well. A missile doesn’t eat. A drone doesn’t complain. AI doesn’t fall asleep or have nightmares. These. These are the perfect killers of the future.

It is way past time for our politicians and leaders to figure this out and get their collective sh*t together. But after witnessing the spectacles of the past year (on both sides of the aisle), I have little faith.

Our Joes and Josephines of the next war will be huddled in a ditch just like I was ten years ago, but this time, instead of being creeped out by friendly drones, they will be terrified of hostile ones.

I wish I could give every Senator and general the gift of feeling naked and vulnerable beneath the cruel stars. However, I am not a magician or a particularly gifted or influential speaker.

I leave you with this- nothing is worse than being fired upon and you have no idea where it is coming from, you cannot act to identify a target or respond in any way, and the fire arrives with overwhelming, inhuman precision to demoralizing lethal effect. This is the nightmare scenario we are asking our soldiers, sailors, and airmen to fight and operate in. This is not a pipe dream, or doom speak.

This will happen to our people.

As they huddle in a ditch, soar in the heavens, or float upon the waves. The inhuman, uncaring death will come without a single whisper of warning. We need to act, to plan, now.

Ask the Armenians.

Postscript: This write-up wasn’t an hour old when I saw this:

A headline from the Wall Street Journal, today, 07NOV21.

Strap explosives to an Amazon drone, launch. Cheap, deadly, and the device(s) nearly overcame multi millions of dollars of conventional security in one of the most heavily guarded places on Earth.

Think about it.

A big moment

Hey all.

This is the fourth time I’ve been through the indie book development process, but actually it’s the first truly indie experience I’ve had.

Why is that.

Because for my first three books I was shepherded through the steps by CreateSpace, and this time I’m doing the work myself. Well, perhaps better said I’m handling the contracting myself. Things like this cover, done by a talented young art student for a small fee.

Everything is a balance. You can spend literally thousands of dollars on a cover, or you can spend five bucks. Me, I wanted a custom image of a spaceship that closely represented what was in my new book; this turned out to be no easy task. No easy task to communicate my vision and have it turned into what I exactly wanted within my budget.

Well, I think the cover above does a nice job of balancing budget, vision and cost. I can fairly say it is the best of my four covers so far, and I plan on using this same artist for a number of books into the future.

I’m sure there will be a learning curve, and I am looking forward to seeing what other covers she develops for me into the future.

But yeah, this one checks all of my blocks.


Alright, readers, a quick one today to let you all know that I am still alive.

Actually, I’m very busy with writing chores at the moment, I am churning through the final edit of my latest manuscript before I submit the RD (rough draft) of “The Storyteller’s Heaven” to my editor.

It is a tedious process, but utterly necessary to deliver a serviceable product to my editor, who will proceed to bleed all over it.

This is the polish that you need in order to deliver a publication ready book. This pain, this endless dissection of the MS (manuscript). If you don’t do something like this, be prepared for a whole passel of justified one-star reviews on Amazon. A book is not a first-grade coloring project, and there are no substitutes for the most professional work that you can deliver.

It’s a form of respect for your readers. Deliver the best product that your ability and budget will allow, your people will see that you have put your best foot forward.

But that’s enough of that spiel.

In the screenshot above you can read the words “backwards edit.”

What does that mean.

My mentor gave me this technique, it is terrible in its soul-draining majesty. But darn does it work good!

Here’s what you do.

You start at the end of your book and read it paragraph per paragraph backwards, so that you do not get caught up in the flow of the story.

Trust me, you’ll spot a lot using this technique.

You’ll also get a migraine and a desire to do something, anything, else.

But it needs to be done. This is why I give myself hard deadlines, and I strive to stick to them. Onerous tasks are frequently the most necessary, and by close of business tomorrow I owe my editing team the RD MS of “Storyteller’s Heaven.”

In fact, I am playing hookey from just that as I type this brief message.


The Black Fiddle

Shown above is the one material thing that remains of my Great-Grandmother, a mixed indigenous woman from Minnesota. All of my life I have seen this black violin, as kids we used to play with it. It was hers, her son inherited it when she passed. Eventually it ended up with me sometime in the nineties.

Just for the heck of it, a picture of her, Grandpa, and the family dog in the early thirties.

I wonder how often she played this fiddle. What kind of music she played. How she came into its possession. Now, I do know a few things about this violin, but not from any family memories.

No, I learned some of its story when I took it to be professionally repaired around 1997 or so.

First, it is a 3/4 violin. Grandma was a small woman, so that makes a certain amount of sense. Second, the fiddle is from the 1870’s or 80’s, and the wood and brass case is older than the violin itself. Finally, it is a good quality violin with real ebony and purfling, although it is certainly not a Stradivarius as a glued paper tag by the sound post purports.

The fellow who taught me how to play, an old wizened gentleman named Clarence, chuckled when he saw the tag. He had an enormous collection of fiddles, and he set up Grandma’s when it left the shop. He said “Yeah, a lot of those old fiddles had those stupid tags. But it doesn’t affect how they play.” After he tinkered with the black fiddle, he put it under his chin and played it like you wouldn’t believe.

Boy, could Clarence play. He was an old-fashioned real Appalachian fiddler, there was no sheet of music anywhere around.

Satisfied, he set Grandma’s fiddle aside. He spoke.

“I see why she kept this fiddle.” He paused. “It has a sweet sound.”

I later learned from Clarence that that was high praise. His personal fiddle dated from the Civil War era, wow, was it nice.

Clarence passed on twenty years ago, I think I was overseas. I do wonder what happened to his ancient violin. I guess I’ll never know.

But obviously, I still have Grandma’s fiddle. I hadn’t played it in I don’t know, fifteen or so years. My daughter expressed an interest in playing, so it got me thinking about my couple of violins.

The music died in Afghanistan, I couldn’t bear to play for a decade.

But for my daughter?

Yeah, I could at least set the fiddle up, I still remembered how to do that. I decided to loan her my violin, a nice 4/4 I bought at an antique store overseas around 1998 or so. It dates from the early twentieth century, and Clarence told me it was an old orchestra violin with “a decent sound.”

But he liked the black fiddle better.

Of course, it was a 3/4, and I needed a full size violin, so I mostly played the 4/4 when I felt like playing.

Clarence taught me how to play as he knew it, no sheet music, everything done by ear.

Kind of tough these days when your ears got blown out by an RPG.

Plus, hell, I just couldn’t stand it anymore.

So maybe it’s a good sign that I picked up the fiddles and tuned them. But boy, have I forgotten a lot. I even forgot the names of the strings and I had to google them when I tuned the old girls.

I did my 4/4 first. Then I did the 3/4.

A 150 year old fiddle, and it holds a tune and plays so sweet. Shady Grove, one of my favorites, played in a sad minor key.

But no way can I play Ashokan Farewell anymore. However, I am happy that the black fiddle can still do the thing.

Thanks, Grandma.

Sleeper Agent by John Birmingham, a review

BLUF: Can’t-put-down action and intrigue with a sci-fi twist.

Alright, readers. Long time hangers-out at this site know that I’ve done some work with JB, and I think he’s a pretty cool guy.

What you should also know is that I’ve been a fan of his work since the 00’s, and this fact way predates me coming into contact with him. His writing is tight, awesome, and rich. In fact, I haven’t run across something of his that actually sucked, ever. If I did, I would call it as it is.

Well, lemme say that his latest, “Sleeper Agent,” is a very long way from suckage.

It’s a pretty awesome book.

Here is my official review:

I’ve been a big fan of John Birmingham’s work for well over a decade- ever since I found a dog-eared copy of one of his paperbacks in a GI mini-library. Back then, I read a few pages and I was hooked. Fast forward some thirteen, fourteen years and maybe the media type has changed (Audible), but his writing has not. Sleeper Agent, his latest, was crafted to the same high standard as the rest of his catalog. 

What can I say? The book’s start drew me in with a confrontation between the protagonist and some bad guys, and it escalated from there. The narrative tension kept ratcheting upwards as it should, and what seemed at first to be a conventional spy novel transformed into a near-future yarn with strong science fiction elements. 

All of it was credible, there was very little suspension of belief necessary as the tale rolled forward. I enjoyed this book during a couple of long car rides and it helped out during household chores. It was great, and at no point did I have the desire to shut my iPad and walk away. Each chapter found me wanting more.

This. This is what good fiction does. Highly recommend for lovers of general action, spy craft, and science fiction

Now that you guys have seen the boilerplate, I’d like to add a few notes.

The narrator for this book worked very well, it suited the genre and story nicely. Absolutely loved this thing on car rides, it made a few three-hour slogs turn into almost invisible exercises. This is the true acid test of an audio book, IMO.

As an aside, I was very impressed with my iPad’s interface with Subaru’s Apple CarPlay. See image below:

Alright, maybe I’m a technological Philistine, but I was amazed by the flawless ease of use with this system, and the ability to play JB’s latest through the car’s audio system.

But I digress.

By all means, go ahead and buy this book.

It’s pretty sweet!

Shooting for a December Release!

After being mired down in the lousy Afghanistan nightmare, it’s time to return to this site’s roots. Science fiction and writing!

The above image is the rough-draft cover of my upcoming novel “The Storyteller’s Heaven” in my latest trilogy, “The Promised Land.” The premise is that we ride along during the birth of interstellar travel, and our voyagers are… unconventional humans. The first book is available right now in serial form on my Patreon site, and now that the dust has somewhat settled I can tentatively say that I’d like a pre-holiday release in December. Of course, I don’t know if that is feasible, and here’s why.

First, this is my first truly indie release, and my first independent title release since 2017. Yes, it has been that long. By first real indie release I mean I do all the work more or less myself. In the past I relied on Amazon’s CreateSpace service, and that hurt me in a couple of ways. First, when they went belly up I lost access to my master files, but at least I still had the originals as edited Word docs. Second, my original trilogy has their ISBNs. Finally, their service was ruinously expensive and I will probably never make my money back. So, this time I’m doing something else.

Alright, a major obstacle is getting this release edited, but I think this is under control. To everyone out there who is considering writing a book, make sure you have a good editor! Nothing guarantees one-star reviews like bad editing. So you must get your baby edited properly. There are no shortcuts, there is simply the question of how much you are willing to pay.

There are also some administrative issues that I need to make myself smart on, for example getting my own ISBNs and copyrights. Pretty sure this won’t take too long to figure out, but these are details that must not be forgotten. Another important task is getting a cover design finalized. Once again, be prepared to spend a little bit of money for a quality product. I have the good luck to know my cover designer, and so far I have been happy with her work. But it will cost you a bit. However, a good cover is worth every cent! People do judge a book by its cover. Seriously. So what you see above still needs a bit of tweaking, and I won’t let up until I have what I want, and my artist knows that.

Finally, let me say that I released this cover behind my paywall some six weeks ago, and I thought the time was right to spread the word on the free internet as well. After all, I think we’re well within the ninety day window, so it’s time to drum up a little interest.

Personally, I’m pretty excited about this, and I can’t wait to try out the software I’m using to produce this book, Vellum. It’s a pain, but it is nice to control the process. If you control the process, then you can get some stuff done.

Well, I intend to get this done.

December timeframe, hopefully in time for the holiday reading season. I’ll keep you posted.


A new addition

Hey readers!

It is with a glad heart that I can announce the latest decision in my writer’s journey, the launch of The KIng’s Ohio Rifles in serial fashion on my Patreon page.

I’ve been dying to release this completed trilogy for the better part of a year, I think I completed Book Three back this past winter. I decided to create the paywall site a couple of months ago, and the thought occurred to me that maybe some more peeps would like to come aboard if I threw in my alt WW1 history into the mix.

Would you like to know the premise? Sure.

The American Revolution didn’t happen, and Bill Strohmeier, a private in the King’s Ohio Rifles, fights for his life in a different World War One.

So if this interests you, you can get aboard for three bucks a month. Lemme tell you what three smackeroos buys you; two series for the price of one, plus ebooks at the end of the cycles. There is The Promised Land, about the dawn of interstellar travel, and The Ohio Rifles, where it’s 1915, but it’s not our 1915.

Five bucks buys you both series, of course, as well as bonus material and my commentary.

And the grand poo-bah, ten bucks? All the bennies of the lower tiers plus you get to pick which series to name your very own character! Or even to write a quick short, and I’ll blend it in somehow.

I’m not going to say otherwise, I’ve picked up a lot of this technique from my friend and mentor John Birmingham. He has a fantastic site himself over at Patreon, if you are not a member over there I’d recommend that you become one.

And it wouldn’t hurt if you wanted to get aboard my site, too.

Catch you soon!


One Single Step

It has been said that the hardest moment of any journey is the very first step, overcoming the inertia of doing absolutely nothing.

I agree with this idea.

You see, I’ve really been struggling with this as of late, I have a mountain of stuff to do both with my Patreon site and straight-up writing in my new trilogy.

There are many reasons for this, along with a few stupid excuses. We all know that the kill radius of an excuse is zero meters, right? So I won’t do excuses.

Here is what needs to happen.

I need to schedule the narratives in my Patreon site, the first book of the Promised Land Trilogy is created.

Here is an obstacle.

Around the drama and horror of what happened in Afghanistan I’ve been dwelling on what I want to capture in the opening moments of Book Two of the trilogy. Believe it or not this has slowed me down for two months. My protagonist needs to act a certain way, and I need to capture his emotion, his sense of wonder and fear. However, I worry that my efforts will be inadequate.

It’s time to kick self-doubt in the dick, to paraphrase the words of advice from John Birmingham in his amazing how-to re: being an author.

This is ridiculous. The last thing I wrote was on the 25th of June. The 25th of June. Seriously?

Yeah. Seriously.

Alright, I know this has been a totally distracting summer. Vacations. Road trips of discovery. The fkn debacle in Afghanistan. All of it added up has definitely screwed up my side gig, this writing thing. I am sure that you guys have noticed on this website, because I neglected this place as well. If it were a building there would be a broken window, weeds on the sidewalk and a wet basement.

So let’s get cracking, shall we?

It is time to drop in on my protagonist, Joe. I need to do some reading (and I have. My verdict? Probably not the crap I had feared). After the reading, to re-establish the mood, it will be time to write.

Chapter One of Book Two.

Everyone knows that the second work of a trilogy is the toughest one, the traditional bridge novel.

Well, this is my third trilogy, so it’s old hat. In theory.

BTW, after consulting with my friend, I have decided to release my unpublished trilogy on Patreon as well.

There is a lot to be excited about! I am looking forward to this fall; hopefully I can pull some of you along on the journey as well.