If you saunter on over to the archives, and scroll down to the bottom of the page, you’ll see that the first entry is dated December 16th, 2009.

Hot fucking damn, two years!

Unfortunately, I’m on a business trip with even fewer moments to spare than I had anticipated so the fanfare will have to wait until Monday. Several talented writers have been gracious enough to help me celebrate with guest Morals coming online Monday, Wednesday, and I’ll be capping the week off with a very special surprise that will kick off 2012 with a big fucking moral bang.

The creative process will never be automated because it will never be understood.

There, I said it.

Now that my contentious claim sits right out there in the open, in public, picking its toes on a park bench, we have to address it because it’s scaring away all of the hotties taking their dog for a walk.

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Just a reminder that I’ll be with the New England Horror Writers booth at the Hebron Harvest Fair tomorrow!

Unfortunately, I won’t have any copies of Codex Nekromantia with me. My printer had some problems related to Hurricane Irene (among other things) and the copies that I was supposed to bring will arrive fashionably late on Monday. Crap! But I’ll be there with some free stories to sign!

Listen up, you kumquats, the Web Fiction Guide has posted a link to and review of the Guide to Moral Living in Examples. Go check out the WFG and most importantly, vote for the Guide because I’m your favorite author and I make every other piece of prose written in English look like a gummy bear stuck to a turd drying in the wicked light of an uncaring Sun.

A pineapple gummy bear. Ick.

Yesterday I had a run-in with I Write Like, a site which purports to analyze any text and give you the name of a famous author with a similar style. I gave it a spin yesterday and received P.G. Wodehouse, H.P. Lovecraft and Bram Stoker for a trio of Moral Guide entries. My brother fed it some technical data and received Stephen King.

I fooled around with copying and pasting in text until I had an idea of what authors were in the system, and then wrote some text snippets in an attempt to get specific authors.

First up was this to try for Raymond Chandler:

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Logan attempted, unsuccessfully, to push past the wall of old people that a bus had just ejected onto the sidewalk in front of him. He tried to hustle around them, only to be arrested by a couple with a stroller coming the other way. Then he stepped into the street and a taxi gave him an earful of horn and expletives.

“Goddammit, old people just get in the way,” Logan muttered.

He worked with them extensively in his position as Chief Meteorologist at the Midwest Weather Monitoring Station, or MWMS. When he arrived, sweaty and twenty minutes late to find one of his subordinate meteorologists waiting for him, Logan unloaded.

“All these geriatrics do is get in my way, slow me down, and complain.”

The unlucky meteorologist gulped.

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