As I rearranged my desk for the nth time this morning – my wont when I return to MainFictionThing after some time away – I realized that resting upon its drill-bored bankers space is the entirety of my life, of myself, up to this present: the Hot Wheels Jeep; the pewter pig and rings; the bulldog; the wedding picture; the broken Flattop mug with a Hulk ball filling its shattered ceramic skull; Yodas elderly and Baby; a monk figuring riding a triceratops planter; a chessboard whose pieces have been missing for more than ten years and the lie told to an individual who requires the lie to feel better about themselves for a similar durationl; a row of spinebroken Big Little Books; assorted Pops and Godzillas (Godzillae?); and the row upon rows of maybes and open loops either waiting or never to be.

A similar recognition of my vicious cycle: in order to counteract familal stress and delay acceptance of the reality of my present (whatever that may be), I'm adding projects to my dancecard which, because of familial stresses and needs, are languishing in open loops (see rows upon rows, above). Solution: accept reality, accept humanity, pare things down a bit, pare them down to the essentials – Create, think, discuss – and publish new shit (see concluding paragraph).

From this notion, a routine – a Spring routine, that is – one cognizant of afternoons being spent tending to spaces outside and surrounding and further familial: mornings are for writing, for time-based work (trying to be done by 0930 – the familials start texting around then); afternoons (1400 on; postprandial errands and walkies with Kirby followed by a brief reading respite are required) are for task-based – be it family, home (fence mending at the top of that list; improv'ed a fix yesterday but I'm not sure it will hold in the climate change winter-spring transition), TSR assembly, etc; evenings for the liberation of Yara (completed), for blasting my way through the YAKUZA games (I'm on YAKUZA 4 and it is, so far, my least favorite of the series), TSR interviews, and further reading about totalitarianism (see postprandial respite, above) as we witness this century's iteration of a bunkerbound genocidal war criminal willing to annihilate the world to avoid humiliation and condemnation to the shitheap of history do his bunkerbound genocidal war criminal willing to annihilate the world to avoid humiliation and condemnation to the shittheap of history thing.

But rejoice for there are – assuming we aren't living THE ROAD by then – new Cormac novels (PLURAL!) coming this Fall.

Also: finished the first issue of Pornsheck Pichetshote and Alexandre Tefenkg's THE GOOD ASIAN and I fucking love it. Can't wait to read the rest of Volume One (nightstand reading FTW); I'll be ordering Volume Two as soon as it's available (May, it seems – though see note re: THE ROAD, above).

I will be releasing the yet-to-be-titled Module0004 for free to newsletter subscribers (and to non-subs for $1.99) this Sunday. Do with or do not with what you will.