Still love Tom Gauld.

And now, from the author of the fabulous “You’re All Just Jealous of My Jetpack,” — which, yes, I also own — comes another fabulous collection: Including such gems as: “Miniature virtual reality bathrooms” wouldn’t work for me. “Disposable lab-grown trousers” don’t sound very attractive, either. #justsayn Cops only wish they could be as tough.…

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Yeah, he was a jockey and there is always a horse around somewhere, but the books are often only peripherally about racing.

[posted to Goodreads in 2010 after Dick Francis died] I’ve been rereading all the Dick Francis on the shelf in the Homer Public Library. This one is still my favorite. Painter Alexander Kinloch, nephew of a Scottish earl, is summoned from his aerie in Scotland by his mother to tend to his step-father, whose prosperous…

Read more Yeah, he was a jockey and there is always a horse around somewhere, but the books are often only peripherally about racing.

reporting in from Storyknife

Hello from quarantine! I hope you and yours are well and working hard at staying that way. Me, too. Here at Storyknife Writers Retreat all those beautiful gardens Rita Jo Shoultz planted for us last year are pushing up green shoots. Two cow moose have been browsing the property, both fat with calf. Pairs of…

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Liam, mentoring.

Liam squinted at her through his one good eye.  “You didn’t say Donohoe had somebody with him.” “He didn’t.” Liam sighed and shifted carefully in a tentative attempt to sit upright.  His head didn’t fall off so he was more patient than he might have been.  “Look, Prince, you’ve obviously discovered some new evidence that…

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The raven, quothing.

The window was open and that damn raven was sitting on the branch of a mountain ash right outside the window, looking as if he had been carved from a single piece of the darkest obsidian.  Liam didn’t really know anything about obsidian except that it was a rock of some kind that was black…

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