I turned in “Nickleback Ned” last night to the anthology editor (he knows who he is). I’m never quite sure with these things if an anthology invite means my story gets extra consideration or if there is some kind of implied guarantee that it will go straight in the bin. Wouldn’t that be brilliant? Invite the people you absolutely do NOT want stories from and that way reject them all for irritating, minor reasons to get them the hell out of the way. Or something.

Oh, toss it. It’s done, at any rate.

Now it’s time for Cake — Detective Henry Cake, that is. He’s my main character in the incredibly silly book I’m scribbling. Not that anyone cares. Detective Cake only stumbles around in my head, not anyone else’s. Yet.

What has come out is Unspeakable Horror: From the Shadows of the Closet. Woohoo! Grab one of the TWO COPIES on Amazon — quickly! — and read my story, “In Her Mirrors, Dimly.” It’s grim and dreamy and has lesbians.

You love that. Admit it.

And this is where I trot back to work for Uncle Walt.