I have no memory of this place...

So, note to self: leave witty "testing a time machine" post before being gone for months. 

Note for the Note: not leaving one might lead people to think you're the Doctor.

But yes, all of my rambling aside, I've remembered to actually put things in here.  It's been a long couple of months, longer still if you're me.  So, without further ado...


T. L. Hart, the Return!

Ramblings no longer aside:  here's what's happened to me and mine in the past few months...

I moved to Vermont with the missus.  It's a hell of an adjustment.  I don't think it's possible to fully iterate that point.  It's a whole different culture, one that seems to be made up of country boys and chauvinists.  It has been frustrating, complicated, and annoying, to say the least.

I was hired by King Arthur Flour, a nice company.

I published The Iron Rose, and will probably publish the second part in the next few days.  Lots of other books have been written in place of this blog.

I was fired from King Arthur Flour... I was seasonal, and they fire 90% (not a made up number) of their seasonal staff.

I was hired to do BARS program testing, basically driving to places, and being yelled at.  It was not fun, but it helped write the Villain book.

I was hired by Vermed, to make things.

I was "let go" from Vermed, because they no longer required me to make things.

I was hired by King Arthur Flour, because they wanted me to come back for the busy season.

I am off this week from King Arthur Flour... because the busy season is coming to a close.

I've got some prospects for minor work here and there, but nothing big... I've had four jobs since my last blog... yeah, that happened.


Currently North Korea is threatening nuclear war, because apparently they forgot "no one likes you, and America literally invented nuclear warfare".

My friend Hannigan beat the system and has his son, and has henceforth earned the rank of "smart."

My laptop has fucktified itself... so my writing has taken a hit.

I've yet to forge a lasting friendship up here, and I spend many of my days in solitude.

But I did manage to find the painting that started it all... the painting that inspired me to write the Iron Rose... it's here.

The imagery of cats in it, sort of shaped my mind to Rose going from an forest girl, to a version of the race from a different book.  That girl on the far right, the one in the dress.  The young girl looking at the viewer like she knows something everyone does not, that she's somehow part of them, yet more.  She's not quite there, not quite what she's going to be, but you can see she's on her way. 

She has a shy, almost coy look about her, with a refined by somewhat wild look about her.  More than a girl, but not yet a woman.  It was what made me want to start Rose off at that age.

So, all it not lost, I'll soon have the next book out, and I'll have all manner of things to talk about in the coming months.

Awesome.