Donation Reward | Copy Cats

Enormous thanks to Ghost Goat (@TheGhostGoat on Twitter) for the generous donation to the site. He helped me determine that things weren’t working quite right with the redirects from PayPal back to oldpines.wtf; so, I’ll have to keep tinkering with that. Probably I’ll just have to have donors DM me on Twitter (@old_pines) so I can send them a link to the reward form. Speaking of rewards, though, here is the first Quiction reward as a token of my appreciation to a donor, a friend, and a “former brother” (long story). The Prompt “If you’re up for it, can I please have a thing that doesn’t feature GG at all, except at the end, when he shows up to make something along the lines of a :/ face?” Copy Cats The office was weirdly boisterous for a Thursday afternoon. There was a buzz of excited chatter radiating from the back …

Wintertime Secess

Dearest reader(s) [and you other poor bastards upon whom I foist the senseless, reeking, tiresome mediocrity that constitutes a fair textual summation of the depth of my character]: Thank you for putting your eyes upon my words. You’ll never understand just how much it means to me that you’ve taken precious minutes out of your life to read my drivel. Thank you for interacting with me on Twitter and giving me a sense of community that, frankly, I cannot sustain in the flesh. Thank you for sending your questions, serious and whimsical, to my Curious Cat. Answering them never ceases to lift my spirits. This website has been active for a little under a year. I wish I could say that I had approached it with a greater sense of purpose, even though I’ve approached it with about as much purpose as I can muster. The stories I’ve started posting …

Words Trickle, Friends

I’ve been quiet. I know. I can’t even say that writing has been a chore lately, because for it to have been a chore I’d have to have applied an appreciable amount of time toward it. So? What’s the hold up? July killed me. Well, technically it killed one of our cats. (Ok, strictly speaking, that was the vet, but we’ve already been over that.) August glanced down at my prone form, giggled a little, and soft-served out a steaming pile of life on top of my head. September hasn’t been terrible; it’s just sort of crouched beside me and smudged the mess ar—sorry, what? It’s October? Fuck off… It is not. Shitsakes…it is. Anyway. My employer, [organization name redacted], moved from the campus where it had been—in one iteration or another—for nearly ninety years to a temporary facility, allowing for extensive renovations. The process of culling out all the …

WIP/Tidbit/Fragment 1

Life continues to be life and the blades of our enshittened fan continue to turn. At a certain level, I know that completely falling off the radar is a Big No-No™ for someone trying to pass themself off as a writer. What about building an audience? What about keeping content fresh and available? Yes, yes, I know. In the interest of at least having something new to post, I’m sharing a fragmentary WIP that is somewhere in the “things that I may work on eventually” pile. This fragment is probably about a year old. It started as me jotting down a sentence or two of an idea so I could remember and tinker with it later. As is fairly common with me, I couldn’t stop once I started typing. The only thing that kept it from turning into a full-blown first draft of a short story was a severe restriction …