You usually get either three, seven, ten, or twelve installments of a thing, don’t you? Here we are already at twelve somehow. Also almost at twelve? The clock I’m under right now. A scheduled lunch. So, instead of stacking a big series of wolfy images up as links to the previous iterations of this—I actually just said […]
In a movie where each scene is cooler and more iconic than the last, this one maybe rises to the top: Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood. It’s #WerewolfWednesday, so give your Big Bad Wolf a kiss. pic.twitter.com/0CFGg3PhDp — Lykanos Wulfheart (@Lykanos_Wulf) June 23, 2016
The trick with this, the eleventh installment of these, it’s figuring how to list the first ten in a way I haven’t done before. Last time I used Def Leppard. Can’t remember what happened before that. Let’s see, let’s see—I know. How about: Also? I could have written a novella in the time it took
Was just on a panel about villains at Denver ComicCon—actually, my second villains-panel there—and then, just now, I went all the long way down to Alamo Drafthouse to see Footloose on the big screen for the first time in thirty-two years, then listened to the Sir Patrick Stewart episode of The Nerdist on the way
Don’t think I’ve ever done a write-up for a single issue of a comic book. But this #1 of Green Arrow / Rebirth—it earns that ‘rebirth.’ First, of course, I didn’t at all see the last Percy arc of Green Arrow going off the rails in any way. I mean, if anybody’s going to appreciate
That “derogatory” part—man, just search twitter. However, over on instagram (which I hardly know), it’s mostly dog-pics. Looks like “mongrels” is a lot of other things, too: a boot/shoe thing: a screen protector: a gang in Australia: a band out of Michigan (very cool tracks, too; their fb-page): another band (this one out of
“X” as in Jason X, yes. I did love that installment. Jason all chrome, and in space, with the same machete as ever? I can’t even imagine how to imagine that. Luckily I just got to go the movies, see it. Anyway, this may be the longest of these screencap sessions yet. Reason being: been
It’s happening ON A SHIP. In CALIFORNIA. I’m THERE, GoH’ing. Click HERE for that.
Nine of these already? I think so. I mean, I’m no expert professional seasoned counter or anything, and my roman-numeral-fu maybe isn’t operating at the absolute highest level, but still, here we are, I think. And? Here’s where we’ve been: one werewolf, two werewolves, three werewolves, four. Five werewolves, six werewolves, seven werewolves, and one more. That’s
For anybody just catching this broadcast on the digital shortwave, here’s installments one, two, three, four, five, six, and lucky number slevin. Also? It kind of makes me sad that I had to actually think to title this one—I mean, think to Roman-numeral it Not that “VIII” is hard, or should be, but, man, when I was in
Part 7 already? I mean, I did the first one of these kind of as a lark. And now I’ve got enough pics and screencaps after this one for an eights installment. Thank you all so much. Verymuch digging seeing Mongrels in ever tab on my browser—and in everybody’s lenses. Means everything. Times two. For
Oh, man, don’t have time really even to mini-review all of these (edit: that’s a lie. I couldn’t help it). But they’re far and away the best stuff I’ve seen lately: This one—wow. Halfway between Tombstone and Unforgiven, and kind of built on the dramatic backbone of Shane. Doc rides again. Unlike most westerns, though,
Makes me half-nervous, making fun, as I know you see your own frailties best in others. But still—well, I don’t like coffee, or beer, or fine dining. But I’m sure I’m a poser in some way all the same: List of Things That Don’t Make You A Writer When I moved to Austin, I was
Y’all been hearing the same thing I have? That we’re kind of easing into a novella-friendly space? Like: http://io9.gizmodo.com/tor-com-explains-why-novellas-are-the-future-of-publish-1685440234 http://www.nytimes.com/2016/03/22/business/media/james-patterson-has-a-big-plan-for-small-books.html? And more and more, I’m sure. As for what constitutes a novella, a short novel, a novelette, a long story . . . who knows. I mean: editors know. There’s word-count thresholds. Granted, they maybe
This must by my first post about food, ever. Anyway, was just commenting on a friend’s pic of a some pie on Facebook—can’t link to it, but the Instagram’d version’s here—and realized that the reason I have yet to try keylime pie (that’s what the pie in question was), even though I promised myself to
Which is a slasher I wrote  . . . two years ago? I’d just reread The Virgin Suicides, and thought, Man, that was cool, sure—along with American Psycho, maybe the book of the nineties—but, wouldn’t it be cooler if that royal first-person delivery could be used to deliver something with a lot of people dying
This is Part VI of these. The other parts are here: one, two, three, four, and five. I should call them the Yellow Dog Chronicles, maybe. The Werewolf Digest. Either way, it’s cool to be on tables like this: And, yes, the kids do need to get Mongrelized: Always proud to be in a proper dogpile: And,
Read two this week, each so, so excellent. Got like fourteen seconds here to say something about them, but I’ll try to steal fourteen more, too, as I can’t not say something about them: Horrorstor was fun, definitely, but, gotta say: I keyed on the horror stuff, but the IKEA stuff, it went right past
This is Part V in this series, this digest, this stack of screencaps. The first four parts are here: one, two, three, and four. Let’s hit it: Is the truck longer in the audio? David James Keaton was saying so. Could be. Always great to be in Rebecca’s classroom—thank you: Via Theo, who’s maybe in a
Figured I’d archive the posters/banners each place makes, and slip the link in so’s they don’t get just completely lost. Will embed when embedding’s a thing, too: TIH 092: Stephen Graham Jones on Werewolves, Mongrels and Common Writing Mistakes Check out the “Show Notes” on that click, too. Most places? They don’t give you a
Which is to say: Bob Seger singing a Waylon Jennings song written by Steve Earle. Maybe the most golden pedigree I can dream of. I mean, okay: if this was somehow all happening in the passenger seat not just of a 77 Trans-Am, but if all three of these music makers were in the actual car
This is from Murder by the Book—which shuttered up as soon as I was done, as the rain was coming down, and Houston’s understandably pretty water-shy this summer, and where we were was evidently a place that goes lake just when the humidity gets high enough. That’s the with-specs shot. Here’s the without,where I suspect
