Been offline for a while. Yep. Hey--it's Summer here, so sue me. I am painfully aware how ridiculously short life is, and quality beach and water time is a priority for me and mine. Sand, ocean, sun, epic reading sessions, fish tacos, etc. Frankly, keeping up on this stupid blog is growing more than a bit stale so who knows how much longer I'll keep it up anyway. (Hmm...I need a plan to fold it into something cooler than this outdated format.) Of course, in the month that's gone by a lot of things have happened on the writing front. Landed in the Pulp Ink 2 Anthology, got the big green light from Ellery Queen on a long story entitled "THE BEAR" for their holiday issue (bear attacks, break-ins, Latin Kings gang confrontations--oh my!), and it looks like I'm all done on my revisions for the upcoming Shotgun Honey anthology. Gee, what else? Yeah, yeah...burying the lead there, Shea. Okay, the greatest news last month was I signed with Stacia Decker of the Donald Maass Literary Agency...so it's official, sports fans. I'm now part of "Team Decker" and we are freakin' legion. Thrilled and flattered that Stacia thinks so highly of my writing, but I'm not a fool. There's lots of work ahead, but I'm ready for the challenge. After being away for a spell, I'm now running full bore at my WIP with fresh eyes. Wish me luck. Any-hoo, life's pretty grand overall right now besides some personal hiccups that I won't get into, and I'm very grateful to be alive. Here's a highlight from my recent time off. A great concert and I think the guy shooting this was a few rows behind me. I dedicate this song to my pals Steve Weddle (no banjos included, Steve, sorry) and to John Hornor Jacobs. They know why. Onward.