…and sometimes you blow through the wrecked semi, cackling in the flames, now remembering that your tricycle is armed with laser guided missiles, and an Artificial Intelligence named Optimus Prime.


It’s been a while since I really updated.  Last big update, I was sick.  I got better.


My days this week have consisted of me waking up at 5pm, going out (usually to Café Aeon) to write amidst the nicotine smoke…then I come home and write.  I procrastinate here and there.  And write.  Then I run just before sunup, take care of emails, and, if I’m lucky, get to bed by 8 am.  It’s a strange cycle.


The epic poem is coming along painfully at times and exciting at others.  When you top writing, it’s like letting go of a muscle and the convalescence of bringing that sucker back to life is full of aches and doubts.  But it’s coming back to me.


“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”

-Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing


I now have a second reptilian pet.  It’s a Argentine Black and White Tegu.  They’re a big lizard.  I don’t know its sex yet nor have I seen it much, because it is hibernating (I thought it was dead when I got it).  So a name will have to wait.  They look something like this –



A while back, the British web-magazine BLOODLUST UK featured two of my vampire stories (…those may be my only vampire stories…I’ll have my secretary look into that…as soon as I hire her), “Varmints” and “For Poor Lucy.”  The editor of that ‘zine has been looking to publish an anthology of some of the stories on the website (including mine) and, in her promotional efforts has a print magazine wanting to feature some of the archived stories.  So I sent my info to her today.  The magazine is BITE ME MAGAZINE.  It wouldn’t pay all that much…but it spreads my virus thoughts to more poor victims.


I updated my bio to send to them:


Joshua Alan Doetsch is a Masters student in creative writing. He fell back on writing ever since the heart wrenching day that the high school guidance counselor informed him that “Spiderman” was not a viable vocation. He’s currently finishing his thesis – a modern epic poem about a fallen angel, a voodoo priestess, and a crow.  He has stories featured in both Bloodlust UK and Eureka Literary Magazine.  He is also one of five finalists in White Wolf Studio’s novel contest.  One night, on a long drive, out of sheer boredom and morbid curiosity, he wrote a blues song about necrophilia.  In the meantime, he stays up late with his pet serpent, Lenore, writing the things that come to him post witching hour – and typing bios in the third person…


Though…if I want to go for more brevity…I suppose I could just use Torrie’s Mom’s intro of me that she tells people:


Joshua – parrot head, poet, and wanderer in the dark.


OK…the sun is coming up…or at least thinking about it.  I’m going to go sleep.  Nighty-night kiddies (or day-dee-day).  Do something today that makes you happy.  Just put it on my tab.