Mr. Dalton has kept me out of the creativity loop for a while now. The most obvious sign being Lone Wilderlands doesn't have a Shelly-inspired, green-shelled, hero-devouring monster lurking in a coin-glittered lair. I suggest you all inundate him with excessively-hyphenated ideas to correct such a travesty.
What's more, he cut me out of the sci-fi editing process. Some publishing company flashes a contract and he ditches me like he does kids on date night. After slaving away for naught but worms on two novels and a short story collection, too.
Warm-blooded ingrate.
This is the depth of my abandonment: My editing genius will molder unused for the next twelve months. Twelve, because he passed it off to a human to muddle up with an overly thoughtful, caring, kind, make the world a better place mentality. Where's the drama in that? And the book cover? Grr. I mean, Hiss. I wasn't invited to that brainstorming session either, so I don't even have any art spoilers to dish out.
If any readers are not incensed at this partnership of reptilian neglect, watch for SpaceBoots in May 2020 from the probably awesome but right now infuriating humans at
P.S. Hi all. DWD here. Shelly didn't hibernate this winter, and she's a little cranky. I'd edit her post to reduce the caustic effect, but that would only make it worse next time. But what am I supposed to do? Immortal Works doesn't hire reptiles.
