Sick, twisted randomocity

I'm rewriting this story I wrote a while back. It's a bit odd, for me, in that the viewpoint character is an antihero. For those who don't know--he's basically the bad guy, and the story is told from his point-of-view.

He's a greasy little bastard, too--a pedophillic minister, though he's not Catholic. I don't give many details as to just what his denomination is, except he's Protestant, and very conservative. Anyway, he's a truly hateable f*ckwad, and I think I did a pretty good job with him. You'll want something really nasty to happen to him at the end--and trust me, you'll get your wish.

When I'm done I'm probably going to enter it into the Jounal Stone short story contest for this year. This'll be my second entry, if I think it's worth submitting. The first was a swords-and-sorcery thing I wrote as a prelude to what was going to be a mammoth series of novels.

I was actually one of the winners in this thing last hear, leading to my first published story, "Cabin Fever." I suggest you check it out. 

This is the anthology m story appeared in. The other stories ain't bad, either.

For those of you who read my previous blog, yes, my friend has put her dog down. It's a terrible, sad thing.

My own dog is doing about the same. His arthritis is worse, I believe, but that's inevitable, and there's not much that can be done. He's already on the strongest medicine he can be given safely. He can still get around but only slowly, and obviously it hurts. I wish there was more I could do for him.

Anyways, that's what's on my mind this morning. I'm just writing this to delay going back into the head of this douchebag character--I guess I can't put it off any longer.