Ruger stood outside the church building the following Thursday morning, a day that had been forecast for a cloudless sky and a gentle breeze from Canada, paving the way for a perfect day on the lake for boaters and fishers alike.  Instead the air smelled of rotting lemons and tasted like a curse soured by time.  And instead of a blue roof adorning the auditorium, clouds the color of cavity ridden teeth sagged down and cast the humidity of a room without windows.  The marquee downtown began to flicker out the beginning of the end of its days.  And instead of a sweet wind rustling the leaves, the air hung as still as a corpse, and the only sound was that of the cicadas chanting in every field around town, surrounding civilization with the wild cry.  A sickly yellow haze passed over the land.  Sweat poured from places people forgot they could even sweat, soaking them in their own stench until no one offered an embrace or arm on the shoulder, or even a handshake, but they kept to themselves to drown deeper into the steam clutching at their throats, until the night may offer a small bit of comfort.  It was not turning out to be a golden summer.

–  TALES FROM THE LAST GREAT LAKE. Work in progress. Coming soon.

Why I Write What I Write

You probably noticed that this blog has not been active recently. Lots of new stuff has been thrown onto me lately. New car. New job. New home. New friends.

So, between moving into a different place, working full time, and adjusting to life all on my own, it’s been tough to make myself stick to my writing and not put it off too much.

When I finally had a day off today and enough time to write, I found it difficult to enter back in the swing of things with so much else on my mind. I could be worrying about budget, my car running low on gas, keeping up with social connections, picking up prescriptions, or a bunch of other things. It’s so hard to focus sometimes.

But I also found that it’s not enough just to want to write a good story. Not enough to want to finish this project just because I started it.

In order to keep at it, I have to remember the why. Why am I writing this book? Why does it mean so much to me? Why have I put so much of my time and energy into a story that’s still far from done?

And when I go back to answering that question, I find the Muse sitting down next to me and draining the lead from my fingers. I guess for me the satisfaction of finishing a project or the possible success of a project can’t motivate me.

And most of all, if I can’t honestly answer why I’m writing what I’m writing, maybe I should not be writing it at all.

For me that “Why” answer has varied from “Dammit I had a bad week and I can indulge in a self-insert fanfic all I fucking please” to “I really need to write this in order to process my past.” As long as there is a why in the first place.


One little thing I really love – and I don’t know why, I just do, and I always have – are buildings that are currently being used for a purpose they were not designed for.

Not far from my house there is an insurance company housed in a former gas station. And an old stone house that is currently a dentist’s office. I don’t know why but seeing things like that appeals to some level of artist in me. Maybe it’s just the aesthetic appeal which I’m a…major slut for. If you ever see a building like that I’d love to send a picture of it!

So naturally, in my book, I have two settings like this and perhaps in the second draft I’ll add a third. One is a library that used to be a hotel. The other is a pagan shop that used to be a gas station. Probably my favorite settings I’ve used in the book so far.

Will make a new post introducing one of my book’s main characters soon. Stay tuned!


My book ib7a06883433f52cb8038a0ab19aa2330s set in a fictional retelling of the small towns I have grown up in all my life.

The town’s name is Good Badger and would be little more than a place in the middle of nowhere…were it not for one special factor.  In fact, Good Badger is quite a tourist trap for a very special reason.  There is some ‘thing’ in it that drives people to visit it.

You’ll find out what that is later.

f196a5ac3c802a892ea010101503181cAnd because of this thing, the town’s economy depends on tourism.  Businesses are able to avoid closing and people don’t have to move away.  As long as Good Badger can keep tourists coming, it can stay alive in a nation that is transitioning away from small town life.  So they keep dressing up Main Street every summer.  They keep waiting for the families to come up from the Twin Cities for a summer adventure.  It’s how life in Good Badger, Minnesota is.

A note to readers: be wary whenever the word ‘good’ is used in the book.


Pre-T No More

For any readers who are not aware, I am a transgender guy. I came out in September 2015 and long story short it has been a rocky road since then. In some places I received nothing short of complete support and acceptance (and if one of them is reading this blog entry right now, I hope they know they literally saved my life). In others I was rejected and not treated so good.

But as of yesterday, that is all behind me. I finally received my first prescription of Testosterone!

The nurse at the clinic who showed me how to do injections was very bubbly and sweet. She seemed very happy for me and we got to talk a little bit about how long I have been looking forward to this. I was shaking with excitement the whole time. It was a complete 180 after my Valentine Blues the other day, which I lamented about plenty on this blog too…I do more than just professional entries on here, apparently! Sue me, I need an outlet for this shit.

When I woke up this morning the first thing I looked at was my bottle containing my T as well as the needle kit. It felt so surreal. Partly because for a long time I felt convinced I would be dead by suicide before I got to start hormones. This time last year I felt trapped in a place where the thought of a physical transition seemed so far away and out of reach. And yet today here I am, taking the first of many steps to helping my body become who I really am.

It’s also really nice to be riding this emotional high/life milestone because I can feel it making my shoulders stronger to carry my loved ones when they’re going through a rough time. It always seems to be a pattern of who is going to help the other get through the day (the real interesting days is when both of you are having a breakdown at the same time. Defining friendship moments right there). But now that I’ve made it a big step, I can be strong again. A burden has been lifted off my shoulders and I can carry others who have a lot weighing them down.

(Footnote. If you follow this blog for updates about writing and such and not my personal entries, this is where I would apologize if I thought I had to. But this blog is  a mix of professional and personal. A glimpse into my mind which sadly doesn’t just carry fictional characters and plot points. But of course it is entirely up to you if you want to read this or not.)

Anyway, Elian Lisette is Pre-T no more and a very happy boy! Now I’ll be off working on my book and listening to “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You” on repeat…