Hello all, I'm still alive, although generally overwhelmed (in a positive way) by life.

So, I'm briefly popping in to point you at something awesome Quinch has done. They made a wonderful reading of Cookies at Midnight that you can find right here: https://youtu.be/BGjwXzmeLMQ

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I'll keep it short, and i don't know how much I'll be present in the next days, but...

I've become father!

After over two years and about 130k words, I just posted the epilogue. The curtains fall on A Bug on a Stick.

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RoMS, wonderful mad as they are, have written a story for me. Based on a simple prompt, they wrote a short novel going in unexpected places and exploring ideas with a sharp, kind eye.

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This post may contain some strong language. I think it's appropriate, as I'm a bit miffed. I just want to advise my followers that it won't be the height of intellectual discourse.

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Little aside, I'm working on my unfinished story. Proceedings are slow but somewhat constant.

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I, as a person, am very averse to conflict. I try to meditate, I try to compromise, I'm often silent if I think it's not worth going into people's faces.

I'm wrong.

Not all the time, mind you. I still understand the need for defusing conflict, but right now, I fucked up.

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This one will be a pretty brief communique.

Let me start by reassuring you that A Bug on a Stick is neither on hiatus nor canceled.

That said, the next couple of chapters are still in the works and may take a while. The reasons for that are that I intend to complete the arc before publishing it and that I'm stressed out beyond belief for a series of vexations related to the rest of my life.

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So, just heads up, the new chapter of A Bug on a Stick will be delayed a bit further. I'm still working on it, but slowly, and am fighting with it at the moment because it seems to be kind of rebellious and I'm having problems disciplining it. I'm not sure if it is some form of a block or simply the lack of time and of a calm environment to write, but I think I will overcome whatever it is in time and deliver you something

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I’m sitting in an automatic laundry on the morning of the second of January in the city where I started college, where I met my wife, and where I lived many years before leaving Italy. A mosquito just landed on my hand and I killed it before the little bastard could get fat on my blood.

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