HIGHWAY 62

Been a week. And then some. The holidays are bearing down like a nemesis planet shook free from its hidden orbit and coming in for a big ‘ol terminal hug. Things aren’t normal, but a whole lotta folks seem hell-bent on making it that way. Ah well, nature will do what it’s gonna do no matter how much you don’t want it to happen. My experiment on writing in response to anthology calls has come to an end. Whether or not it’s ignominious is an exercise left to the reader. Let’s j

So my Twitter account got arbitrarily suspended over an exchange where the Algorithm blessed be its name in its wisdom has decided that by quoting a line from THE SIMPSONS to a mutual, I was in fact threatening an act of violence. Which I suppose is something you could have thought was happening if you looked at the exchange without any manner of human context or I don't know, having ever watched THE SIMPSONS. For the record, I'll include the exchange. There was a reply that

I know. I've probably used that title before. But like an object that goes through a time loop and get zapped back a million years and then shows up in the present again, it is inevitably a different object altogether. Since it's the first of November, you may know what I'm going to talk about. That being the reforging of this month into the time where you, yes, you become a creative powerhouse. Yowsah yowsah yowsah! Step right up and you too can become a Writer! The world wi