I'm a guest today at Misprinted Pages yammering about how no one understands me. This is what happened: Stephanie Carmichael wrote a blistering reaction to what she thought was a romance novelization of She-Hulk, and I contacted her, and then she invited me to 'splain myself, Ricky.
It almost makes me question the wisdom of starting each day with a dozen Sudafed and a tumbler of Tanqueray because my appalling pretentiousness is in direct inverse relation to my, uhm, cheerfulness. Luckily, readers quickly assumed that I’d merely written a really bad teen romance. Whew, that was a close call!
 Yes, I'd like some cheeze with that whine! Come on by to read about my stumbles along the road to not get a real job pursue my writing career.

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