Okay, as the world continues to smolder, I have some major announcements to make regarding my work.  (Sorry, world.  YAY ME!)

First, my WIP novel, The Fearing, is nearing completion.  It currently stands at about 481 pages, about 121k words, 35 chapters.  Working on a doozy of a chapter today, should cross over 500 pages by tonight.  Only about 150ish pages to go.  Long?  Yes.  Apocalyptic?  Yes.  In a way you haven’t seen before?  YES!

Next:  I have a story appearing this spring in Mark Matthew’s anthology Garden of Fiends.  Mark is a talented guy, if you haven’t read On the Lips of Children, Milk-Blood or All Smoke Rises…make it so!


Great cover, and there I am, with Jack Ketchum and Kealan Patrick Burke.  Yowza.  My story, “Last Call,” is an almost 20-year-old one, languishing away because it couldn’t find a home.  But it seems tailor-made for this anthology.

Next up, if you haven’t heard, I have story in Doug Murano and D. Alex Ward’s Shadows Over Main Street 2, the follow up to their hit Lovecraftian book.  This one will be out later this year, and features authors like Joe Lansdale (!) and Joyce Carol Oates (!!).  My story, “Shug,” is a longer one, a quasi-novella or really long short story, set in the post-WWII American heartland.

Interesting thing about this story.  Once I finished it, I had a weird, synchronicity-type of realization.  The main character of this story, a woman named Vesta, is actually connected to the main character, Merle, in my novella that appeared in I Can Taste the Blood.  Can’t give too much away, but reading both (when they’re both out) will inform each other.

I’ve also got a reprint coming out later this year.  Stoker-Award-Winning Editor Eric Guignard is assembling an anthology called The Five Senses of Fear, which will feature stories that deal with the human senses to promote quiet/ thoughtful horror and speculative fiction.  My story, “The Scent,” which originally appeared in my first collection Little Deaths (more on that soon!), will reappear here.  It showcases how the sense of smell is so important.

I’ve got a lot more things that I just can’t talk about as yet, but rest assured, if you, like me, are a fan of John F.D. Taff, then 2017 will be a good, good year.


Thank God

Someone’s finally draining the swamp in Washington, D.C.  Huzzah!


Thank God

We’re safe from Goldman-Sachs and the near collapse of our economy that they orchestrated and profited from.



Thank God

Someone is finally addressing the out of control crime statistics in this country, what with crime being at an all-time high now.  Sheesh.



Thank God

The horrible, horrible Massacre at Bowling Green is finally getting the exposure it deserves. Huge.  Sad.  Never forget!


Thank God…

Our schools will now be safe from random, deadly grizzly bear attacks!


An Open Letter to Ben Robinson…

An Open Letter to Ben Robinson, Head of the Eaglemoss Star Trek Ships Collection…

(With apologies to all for me being an uber-nerd.)

Dear Ben,

You are breaking my heart.

I’ve been a subscriber of the Eaglemoss Star Trek Ships Collection for…ummm…like 40 some odd months now…more than three years.  Each month, I’ve received two spectacularly rendered (for the most part) model ships from some incarnation of Star Trek–from obvious ones like the Enterprise D and Voyager to the more-than-obscure ones like the Malon Freighter or the Romulan Drone.  Mostly I’ve been satisfied.  Mostly.

However, recently things have run off the rails.  The models are getting a little less…ummm…how shall I say it?…nicely detailed and more seemingly slapdash–the Borg Renegade ship anyone?  Special shipments here in the states are, at best, haphazard.  And 0f most concern to me lately is the state of customer service at Eaglemoss.

When I take it upon myself to contact Eaglemoss about a problem, your staff is always courteous and friendly, which is great, but to say that’s a relatively low bar is putting it mildly.  Every time I’ve taken it upon myself to contact Eaglemoss, either by email or phone, the staff member is unfailingly nice, but woefully ignorant of a) your products, b) my problem (even if the phone call was prefaced by a few emails) or c) any details specific enough to answer my question.

You might have noticed that I used the phrase “take it upon myself” twice.  Unfortunately, it’s for good reason.  If there’s a hiccough in my service, as there has been over the last few months, and a shipment doesn’t arrive when it’s supposed to, no one calls me to tell me there’s a problem or what the problem is or what I can do to ameliorate the problem.  There is, simply put, no communication from Eaglemoss unless I initiate it.

Now, I have problems with that.  I have turned over billing information to Eaglemoss in order to subscribe to the collection; to ensure that my shipments arrive each and every month.  I have, in fact, created a monthly bill for myself, giving Eaglemoss access to financial information so that it can dip into my account each and every month and deduct money.  That’s not a privilege I give lightly or often, and it’s got to come with some responsibility from Eaglemoss.

Given this, and the fact that I’ve subscribed now for 40+ months–which has got to make me a pretty damn good customer–I’m surprised and aggravated when there’s a problem and Eaglemoss doesn’t contact me.  I was supposed to receive a shipment in December.  No shipment has arrived or seems to have been shipped.  This has happened three or four times over the last five or six months, and nothing happens unless I call.

So far, I haven’t called, pretty much because I wanted to see how long I’d have to wait.  I’m still waiting.  No call from Eaglemoss.  I’m pretty sure I know what the problem is, but that’s not the point, is it?  It’s that I’m evidently not that big a deal to Eaglemoss, even though I’ve already spent some $2k with you and have signalled my willingness to spend even more.  Not enough reason, evidently, for Eaglemoss to give me a head’s up when there’s a problem or even seem to care whether I’m a subscriber or not.

I find myself now wondering why I should care.  Why should I even bother to subscribe anymore?  I mean, there are plenty of good uses to which I could put the monthly outlay I make to Eaglemoss.  And my wife would surely be ecstatic if I stopped filling my office with tiny ships.

Why should I bother, Ben?  I really need a reason…

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