This week I have a poem featured with our friends at the ultra fabulous Short, Fast, and Deadly. I trust by now considering how much I have gushed about this most wonderful weekly collection and its unimaginably talented senior editor Joseph A. W. Quintela you have all already guzzled this week’s edition… if somehow you haven’t… off you go!
My jaw has dropped at the site of ten book purchases. Sure Penguin Books won’t care when I try to toss them some fiction and say ‘PS… I’ve sold ten books on my own because I have something you don’t Penguin… loyal cult members.’ But that’s totally cool.
Point: Gretchen Cello has found a place on ten bookshelves. Eleven months ago I was literally getting my ass beat by a team of two old dudes who believed that multi-culturism is what happens when various specimens grow in the same petri dish. I bounced from a ‘job’ that easily sustained financial security in exchange for my sanity and quite frankly, what I believe in.
I also believe I belong to an alien species from a distant galaxy… but that’s totally being saved for another entry, perhaps when we hit the ONE YEAR OF CONSECUTIVE POSTS MARK… because that’s just around the corner you know.
Sloppy kisses to you all, my amazing collection of tribal members, with extra licks to those that went as far as to get your paws on my first published book.
More on the way… I’m hitting the street right now to see to it… I’m not sure how long I’ll be in this city. But you better believe I’m taking every story with me should I take to travels again.
… surely by now you’ve all figured how itchy these feet of mine tend to get.