I name my characters after people such as the guy who rang up the cumin at the cash register who is himself really into Babylonian esotericism but not so much that he changed his name to Zoltan ben’Marduk or anything.
Blinking and judgmental, always — that steady little flash isn't a cursor, it’s my conscience with a pixelated face, keeping time with every sentence I almost commit to and then delete.
I've been 'in-progress' since the fall of the Roman Empire. But I’ve heard rumours there’s a status beyond that. If only we had time machines to go and find out.
I have one WIP which I’m hoping to put out sometime next year, in which the protag is a self-proclaimed misanthrope. He’s been a delight to write because he’s such a wilfully shit human.
The Oxford Comma is a British revenge plot for losing the Revolutionary War.