More Cruelty???

We’re four weeks into 2019 and I’ve decided to allow the hair on my head to grow unimpeded until the end of the year. Facial hair, too. Last time I did this, I gave up after three months, when I was asked by a dude outside of our local grocery store if I needed a few bucks so that I could grab a hot meal. He’d thought I was homeless, which wouldn’t’ve been funny had I been, but was decidedly HILL-AREAS to me due to the fact that I was not. I was, however, depressed and perpetually angry, as some of my followers might recall, (think back to how I acted after the 2016 elections and I’m sure my personal appearance will not shock a single one of you), and my hygiene suffered. Luckily, I didn’t reek. I was still showering (Chelle, say thankee) enough to keep the men in white coats away, but I’d stopped grooming myself and wound up looking like…

slovenly e

Look at that slovenly sumbitch! He looks like someone just molested his favorite puppy while dragging it down the interstate by a length of rusted barbwire. Poor bastard deserved to be mistaken for a vagrant. That was 2017, by the way. On Twitter I mistakenly said it was a year ago. It was actually two years ago, when I had everything going for me aside from a positive mental attitude.

So why would I want to look like that again? you might be asking yourself. The answer is, I don’t want to look like that again. I do, however, want to see what I look like with a full beard, and the only way to do that is to grow it out over a year and trim it back. Also, this time around, I plan to take care of all this new hair, which I did not do last time. Beard oil, conditioner, vitamins… those types of things are going to be paramount to success. Will I look like a hot mess dipped in flaming garbage for the next year of my life? Yes, yes, I will. Will the end product be worth it? Probably not. But goddamn it, I’m going to try. Either way, Chelle will be happy, because she likes my pubic beard, says she likes the way it feels, and I couldn’t careless what anyone but her thinks about my appearance so ONWARD!

Video uploads will be lacking this week as central Alabama prepares for SNOWMAGEDDON 2019! Honestly, it might not be that bad, but we lose power whenever someone belches in our general direction, so I don’t have high hopes for internet stability throughout the week. It was a pleasant 55 degrees here all day today, and partly cloudy, but for some reason the internet wouldn’t stop dropping out every hour, meaning I couldn’t get anything uploaded today. Alas, there’s always tomorrow…

Speaking of tomorrow, I have my first doctors appointment since starting my intermittent fasting at the beginning of the year. I’m looking forward to whether or not this new lifestyle is working, considering I do not own a scale and have not been weighing myself. Shit, I could’ve gained weight, but I doubt it. I feel amazing, and none of my clothes fit anymore, so here’s to hoping!

I’m thirty pages from the end of THINNER and despite one part that shattered my sense of escapism, I’ve dug every minute of the book. This is my fourth time through the fifth (and final before King was outed) Bachman book, the last time being in 2015, and I have no idea what has changed in my life to make me appreciate the book more now more than ever. I’m almost done with WITCHES OF EASTWICK, too. Oddly enough both books were published in 1984. I didn’t plan that, promise. When they were written is an entirely different story, I’m sure, but I find it amusing that I just happened to read two books that were both published within months of each other. Serendipity? Fate? Probably neither, but it is cool and odd, even if it means nothing.

What’re y’all currently reading? Only thing I didn’t mention was that I’m about halfway through the audiobook of CHERRY, by Nico Walker, I think is ol’ dude’s name. I’m looking forward to February and Women in Horror Fiction month. Are you participating? I will be, kinda. I won’t be reading only horror, but I will be reading only women authors. I’m excitedto finally start A SECRET HISTORY, by Donna Tartt, and CROOKED GOD MACHINE, by Autumn Christian, whom I’ve long been a fan of. Her blog, anyway. I have yet to read any of her fiction, but her newsletters are some of the best around.

By the way, CRUELTY AND JOY, the prequel/paraquel/sequel to my 2015 serial novel CRUELTY starts over on Patreon in March. If you haven’t signed up, you can do so HERE. For $5 a month, you’ll get a paperback bind-up of the episodes released thus far, as well as a limited-edition hardcover of the final book when the series wraps in late 2020, if you’re subscribed during the life of the serial, that is. You can’t sign up for one month and cancel the next and still get a free hardcover. Sorry, folks. The novel is twice as long as CRUELTY, which was 150k words. That’s right, this motherfucker is 300,000+ words, and I think it’s worth every page. I had the most fun of my career writing this one. If you liked the first book, I guarantee you’ll love this one.

Here’s the cover art. The lettering might change, but the artwork is finished. Patreon supporters will be getting free posters of this image in a few months, as well.

c&j cover

See y’all next Monday!


My favorite videos of the week:



Who Would Want to Read about Me?

This morning the grass is shimmering like a field of diamonds, and I’m obviously in a literary mood. The moon is full. Twitter says “blood moon” is trending. I have no idea why that’s special, but I’m sure someone will let me know. I don’t plan to hang around the Twitverse long enough to find out and I’m not intrigued enough to Google it, so onward.

I watched two movies last night: YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE (excellent) and HELLRAISER JUDGMENT (acceptable at best, but the bar is super low after the abomination that was part nine). I can’t recall the last time I just shutdown and watched more than one movie. (I did live-tweet HELLRAISER JUDGMENT, and had a lot of fun doing so, but I consider that a cheat day and not a relapse.) I had a blast with both movies, even if the former was leagues better than the latter.

Sometimes I think authors use “former” and “latter” simply to confuse people. Then you have the people who don’t use it properly, and that’s why no one knows which is which. Me? I remember by telling myself that the first thing is former, and I remember that by telling myself that both “first” and “former” start with “F”. The more you (think you) know.

Anyway, I highly recommend YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE, especially if you enjoy my Larry Laughlin series.

I did something this week I haven’t done since high school. I let a couple of strangers read the beginning of an unfinished project. Not an unedited project, but an unfinished one. If you know me personally, you will know this is rarer than a green blood moon. (You know I had to Google it.) I didn’t let these folks read unfinished material for any vain purpose, and by that I mean that I totally did. Vanity was the predominate motivator, anyway. Secondly, I wanted to know if people would enjoy reading about, well…me.

It’s super early in the process, but I’m writing my first piece of novel-length nonfiction tentatively called AUGUST BABY: a Memoir. (Godfuck, “A Memoir” sounds pretentious as fuck…) But pretension is one of the reasons I sent the opening chapters to a group of readers who have a) never read my work and b) won’t read my work because I’m a disgusting horror author. I kid. One of them has read my work. She hated it, which is why I asked her to read this.

All three of them loved the opening three chapters. Of course, they were under the impression that this was fiction, but that too was important to the process. I think I’ve lived a pretty interesting life, interesting enough to spend the next few months writing about myself (bloody narcissist that I am), but I wanted to know if my life would interest readers who prefer fiction. A memoir is the ultimate in putting yourself out there, if you’re honest anyway, and I plan to be. It’s going to be awkward, but I doubt it’ll be boring. And that’s most important to me. That people are entertained.

I’m still enjoying my limited time on social media (one-hour a day, for those of you new to the blog) and don’t plan to returning to my old ways. We’re three weeks into this experiment (studies say it takes 21 days to build a new routine) and sales haven’t dropped, neither have my follower counts, in fact, both have gotten better, so maybe the idea that social media is important to an author’s success is a bunch of bullshit?

Or perhaps people like it when there’s less of me? Can’t say I’d blame them, but I’m working on that. The memoir (FUCKING PRETENSIOUS WORD GODDAMN) is helping with allowing me to like myself again.

Or maybe for the first time.

Anyballs, how’re you doing? I’m stupidly happy, especially after such a positive response to the first three chapters of my new (DON’T CALL IT A MEMOIR YOU WHORE) project. I continue to fast twice a week with the aid of Keto coffee, or Bulletproof coffee, if you prefer (see the last blog for the recipe). I see my doctor on the January 29, so I’ll have a weight and progress report for you next Monday. I’m currently reading THE RUNNING MAN and THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK (buddy read with my friend Erica) and am enjoying the latter more than the former.

Fuck, I did it again.


My favorite videos of the week:

2008-Obama Levels of Change

Holy shit, what a month it’s been so far. Two weeks in and I’ve completely changed my internet habits, started eating right and fasting, and…wait for it…WE MIGHT BE MOVING?!?!?!?!???!!???

Now that last bit is subject to change (pun not intended) because I don’t have a final say-so from one of the parties involved, but we might be buying a three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath, home with a den and living room and fire place and acres of land! Not sure yet, but chances are very good because it’s either they sell to us or let the bank foreclose and who wants that shit in their rearview?

I’m continuing with my one-hour-a-day social media regimen and loving it. I’m also managing to follow my new eating routine, where I eat whatever I want as long as I stay under 3,000 calories five days a week, and fast the other two days, as long as they’re not back to back. I’ve also recently started drinking keto coffee on the days I fast AND CAN CURRENTLY SEE THE FUTURE! Kidding, but it’s amazing how much energy that stuff gives you. Keto coffee, or Bulletproof coffee as some call it, is six ounces of coffee blended with two tablespoons of unsalted butter (I use Kerrigold grass-fed) and one tablespoon of either coconut or MCT oil. The effects are righteous. I can have up to 600 calories while fasting, but this week I’m going to try drinking nothing but the keto coffee, and only water and black coffee after that. If you follow me on Twitter, I’m trying that tomorrow, so stay tuned for updates…

In reading and reviewing news…

I finished THE NIGHT PARADE and BAD CALL this week, and reviewed both. I’ll link those below. I also finished ROADWORK, but that video won’t be up until Wednesday. I think…Anywho, I’m currently listening to CHERRY, and reading THE CHANGELING, which I am liking a lot, and will be starting THE RUNNING MAN tonight. What’re you reading?

In writing and publishing news…

All Things Lead to the End, my Bay’s End series, is finally coming to a close. EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE NOW comes out February 5, and NO HOME FOR BOYS drops in June (March for Patreon pledges), but both books are done. It’s going to be weird waiting until June to release the final book because I will have stopped working on it in January, but I don’t want to push them out too close together.

The Larry Laughlin series returns in March, too. PENNIES FOR THE DAMNED (my preferred version) drops then. Looking forward to what people think of it. I can’t think that too many people read the original version. I think the book sold a total of 16 copies, if my former publisher is to be believed, so I’m not too worried about upsetting anyone with the new content, which is actually old content that was cut from the book, but I’ll move on because I don’t want to confuse anyone. The third book in that series, FLESH FOR THE ASKING, comes out next March. Only two people in the world have read it, so I’m going to need more input before publishing it. I’m shooting for a new Laughlin book every year, but we’ll see. There’s only five books in total, and they’re already written, so I might not be able to wait…

I think that’s enough updating for today. But I wanna end this post by asking y’all how you’re doing? Any better than last week? Any worse? Let me know down below.


I Wanna Get Positive, Positive!

So we’re officially a week into 2019 and I’m feeling pretty damn good. I finished BEARSKINS, by James A. McLaughlin (fantastic by the way, I’ll link to the review at the end of this blog, if you’re interested), and am ¾ through with THE NIGHT PARADE, by Ronald Malfi, which is pretty darn good, despite some clichés and repetitive writing, but I’ll discuss all that in my review.

I’ve started planning out my TBRs for the month, too. I’m a mood reader, though, so we’ll see how long that lasts.

But how the hell are you doing? I feel like we don’t talk enough. I get plenty of views on this blog, but people rarely ever comment. I’m a big fan of discussion, even if it is just you telling me how you’re doing. It’s an easy way to check in with people that I don’t get to talk to because life gets in the way, so holler at ya boi.

(I’ll stop.)

I’m loving my new social media existence. No more than an hour on my various platforms has boosted my productivity in the real world. I’m exercising again (30 minutes of Just Dance 2019 on the Switch with my kids every night, albeit it sitting down, because my leg is still useless), eating right five days a week, and fasting the other two. Everything is just going really, really well. Of course I’m not disconnected from the internet entirely, but having 23 hours away from my socials is liberating. I’m much happier.

I ended last year on this blog on a negative note, so we’re starting this year with the positive. Hopefully it trends. I’m shooting for a new blog post every seven days, but we’ll see how that goes.

But, for real, let me know how you’re doing in the comments below. And don’t be afraid to talk to each other!



Things, they are a’changin’

Things are changing. If this personality is going to survive its internet existence, I’m going to have to create some rules. Without further ado:

1. I will no longer be responding to everyone who messages me or comments on my various postings. I can’t keep up with comments anymore, and even when I can half of them are hateful or pointless, or don’t require any response, so I’ll read them and move on. This does not go for friends. If we have a previously existing relationship, nothing will change. At least I fucking hope not. I’m sure some of you will overreact to this, as it never fails to happen, so I look forward to your individual meltdowns in the coming days.

2. I’m limiting myself to one hour of social media a day. No more for right now. This is another reason I won’t be responding to everyone. I’ll have a limited time each day with which to interact and I want to focus on those who mean the most to me.

3. No more community drama. The wrong people always take offense if I vague post, even though I only do it to keep friends’ names out of everyones’ mouths, and naming people results in too much bullshit. Most recently, I mentioned someone and ten motherfuckers in under an hour emailed me wanting to know if I was talking about them. Funnily enough, the person I was talking about blocked me without any warning whatsoever, so joke’s on us, huh? On a serious note, y’all need to calm the fuck down. If you don’t trust me, why are we even friends?

4. No more uncorrected proofs or review copies before publication. Preorders and Patreon pledges will get books early and that’s it. I’ve sent out a hundred physical copies this year for review and have gotten thrirteen reviews in return. I can no longer justify the cost, especially not with Amazon removing reviews and reviewers based solely on shit like us following each other. My sincerest apologies. Which brings me to…

5. I’m retiring from independent publishing. After NO HOME FOR BOYS releases in June, there will be no further Edward Lorn books under the Lornographic Materials banner. If I can’t find a publisher, I’ll publish under my other names and call it quits with Lorn permanently. I’m tired of the grind. I just want to write. This decision comes after loads of drama with KDP, Createspace, acquiring editors I can trust, and simple laziness, which basically boils down to me not wanting to format my own work anymore, and I refuse to pay someone for something I’m simply too lazy to do.

6. Even if I can’t find a publisher, I will continue to post work to Patreon. This includes CRUELTY AND JOY, the Larry Laughlin series, and every other project I’ve mentioned in the past year.

Thank you for all your support over the years, and I will try to stay in touch with as many of you as possible. If any of the above is unacceptable behavior to you, it’s been swell, and I wish you the best in everything you do.

Take care of each other,


Deactivating Social Media

Hello peeps,

Because some people took “I’m going on break” as a challenge to email me wanting details as to who I was talking about in the last blog post, I’ve deleted the post and deactivated my social media accounts. Honestly, I’m kind of annoyed at the moment that so few people respected my wishes to be left alone that I’m considering not returning to these platforms whatsoever. But we’ll see. It’s a popular belief that public personas do not deserve privacy, but I’m not that guy. This is not some cry for help, publicity stunt, or any other dumbass theory anyone has come up with. I want to take some time off. Period. Everyone has had direct access to me for over eight years and I think I deserve some time away. If you can’t respect that, that’s your problem, not mine.

The only places I’ll be posting is Patreon and YouTube but I will not be responding to comments. Please try and go on about your business and allow me some time to myself.

Thank you for understanding.


Thanksgiving is Cancelled

Yesterday night, after dinner, I had to break my mother’s heart. She asked me what I was bringing to Thanksgiving this year and I answered her question with a question.

“Is Gina coming?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Then we’re not coming.”

She didn’t have to ask why. She goes to the same church my sister does. She’s seen my sister change from a loving person to a hate-filled bigot over the course of the past ten years. Mom’s witnessed it all, has even defended her on multiple occasions. She didn’t defend her yesterday, though. She didn’t call Gina and tell her she couldn’t come to Thanksgiving either. Because it’s perfectly all right for me and my family to feel unwanted. God forbid Gina feels unwelcome.

To give you a brief example of what my middle sister is like, I must take you back in time to September of this year, the most recent fuckery involving Gina, and the final time I spoke to my sister. We were all seated at a large table – we being: me, my wife Chelle, my two children Autumn (13 and gay, that’s gonna be important here in a minute) and Chris (6), my mother, my oldest sister Tammy, my middle sister Gina, and Gina’s husband, hillbilly extraordinaire, Thomas. Our waiter was a pleasant dude with a man-bun. For fifteen minutes straight, Gina commented on the man and his “faggy” haircut. Thomas joined in, and they shared a moment of redneck bliss as they mocked this guy who was simply doing his job. I said something to my sister and her response was to call me a “libtard”. I was “too sensitive” and needed to “grow a sense of humor.”

Needless to say, we left. I wasn’t about to get in a fight in a public restaurant, especially not in central Alabama, where the majority of diners in this restaurant were likely to be on my sister’s side of things. I consoled my daughter, who had came out as gay to us and her grandmother last year. That young woman is brave, lemme tell ya. She knew we’d support her, but telling my ultra-religious mother, man, that took guts. I’m a very proud father. After Gina’s “faggy” comments, Autumn told me she still loved Gina, and that, friends neighbors, broke my fucking heart, because my asshole sister doesn’t deserve my child’s love.

This isn’t the first time Gina and I have been on the outs over her saying some hateful shit. Her son once posted a racist meme of a black man with enlarged lips. The capture read, “The lost Ninja Turtle, N****tello.” I saw the picture on his Facebook and immediately called him. He responded by saying I needed to calm down. “Ain’t like I was talking about your wife.” I told him I didn’t appreciate it, no matter who he was talking about, and he hung up on me. That’s the last time I’ve spoken with him. I then called Gina to tell her I didn’t want the racist douchebag anywhere near the house, and she couldn’t understand why I was so upset. “It’s not like Chelle acts like a n*****.” Hard E-R there. No A. Not that it would have made much of a difference to me how she’d said that word, just her saying it was enough to piss me off, but she was so comfortable with the hard E-R version of the word that I was stunned speechless. I knew she was a close-minded religious nut. She’s been that way for almost a decade, but this racist side of her was new. At least new to me. She’s always been nothing but pleasant to Chelle, and my good friend Chris, who my son’s named after. I never would’ve imagined that she was so well acquainted with such a nasty fuckin word.

Needless to say, I was upset. She didn’t see the problem and refused to even talk about it. I resorted to saying my kids wouldn’t be coming over to play with her grandkids again because I didn’t want them around in case she decided to let words like that fly. She laughed me off and gave me a “whatever.”

Time passed, but time does not, as they say, heal all wounds. In my heart I’d lost a sibling, and I don’t think she realized how serious I was. I’m not one to blindly accept blood relations based simply on their familial ties to me. You must earn my respect and love. She lost both with the flippant use of the N-word. The point of no return was her bigoted diatribe about our waiter and his choice of hair style.

Fast forward to last night and my mother asking if I was bringing anything to dinner. I told her I was sorry, and I was sorry. I was sorry she had to watch a wedge be driven between her children. I can’t imagine finding out that Chris doesn’t want to have anything to do with Autumn, but if Autumn acted like Gina has, Autumn would be the unwelcome one, not Chris. Just the way it would have to go.

Mom came to dinner tonight and said nothing more on the subject. She hadn’t talked to my sister, and isn’t going to. She knows as well as I do that something terrible has changed in Gina’s heart and that we’re helpless to fix it. The one thing we might be able to do is to ostracize Gina to the point she starts questioning her actions, but Mom’s not about to do that. Her children are always welcome for the holidays. If I want to uninvite myself, that’s on me, but she’s not about to give ultimatums. My mother is seventy-two. Last thing she wants to do is alienate one of her children in her final years.

Yes, I’m defending my mother. It’s what son’s are supposed to do. Am I hurt? Yeah. Is my heart broken? Fuck yeah. But I get it. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I’ll get it down in time.

Hatred is acidic. It stains and corrodes. It dissolves. I wish I knew what the alkali was in this analogy, because love sure as shit ain’t it. I’ve only ever loved Gina. Now she’s just not worth it. Fuck her.

Before I sign out, I want to extend many thanks to all my wonderful friends and followers on Twitter. You guys helped boost my spirits and give me words of advice and reinforced my certainty that what I did was right. I’m gonna miss Thanksgiving with the bag of nuts that are my extended family, but I have my own family to worry about, and no one is worth the sorrow of my loved ones. Not even blood.

If you’re visiting a less than welcoming space this holiday season, I wish you all the best. But, seriously, they don’t deserve you. Take care of each other.