An Andro Named Sue

Balancing a career in publishing with chronic migraines. Sort of.

When the fuck did that happen? Anyone else feel like 2017 went by in a fucking blur of WTF? I’m having a hard time pulling out any singular moments of That Was Nice other than visiting my family in Florida way back in March, and my time spent living with the Wooldridges. And the writing retreat. (Anytime spent with a Wooldridge is a good time)

And the Art Spiral. Man, that was fun. Continue reading

Alright gang, sit down, buckle up, grab a fucking drink. If you saw me recently in my last appearance from the cave(Merrimack Valley Horror Book Fest!), you may have heard a bit of this, but IT IS TIME. ON THIS EVE OF ALL HALLOW’S EVE. To tell the story of my currently haunted house.

Yeah. This isn’t a “remember when I grew up in the house that became the basis for Poltergeist?” THIS IS HAPPENING. TO ME. RIGHT NOW. Continue reading

Hoooo man, these past two months have been…a lot. There was a lot of good. And a lot of bad. Terrifying and weird and wonderful. And at times, a tid bit horrifying. I finished the first Bulletproof Spy installment. I had a melt down during the Sketchy Ass Plumbers incident and have since had to make the firm decision to go only by they pronouns. I lost some weight. I’m back to eating healthy. I’m really getting into gear with minimalism( and I will be posting about that very soon, I promise.) Continue reading

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, or hell even Tumblr (sup my favorite weirdos), then you might have heard that I recently had to put down my current writing project, tentatively titled The Fever From Krakow, part one of the Bulletproof Spy series. This does not mean I’m putting it to rest–it means I reached a moment where I realized the thing I fear most in writing had happened: I had not researched the story well enough to execute it honestly. Continue reading

Obvious statement the first: I am a millennial.

Obvious statement the second: I am poor as fuck.

Obvious statement the third: Saying no to things is the hardest thing there is. Second only to getting up for work at 4am. Continue reading