Here’s the Sex Pistols.
You gotta be a certain age to remember that album. 🙂
The song I’ll add at the end of this post is not from Never Mind the Bollocks it is from The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle.
So anyway, it’s July 3rd, again.
Keeps coming and doesn’t bring much joy with it – although these days it’s not the horror show it used to be.
If you saw my blog post yesterday you know I have the flu. Yes, still. It’s not helping.
I forced myself to drink my coffee this morning in an attempt to feel less sick and more normal … it has not worked.
That’s disappointing.
Don’t forget the annual summer/winter sale is on this month at Smashwords. Get over there and make the most of it. Also, get over there and buy books. Sales put food on authors’ tables and clothes on their kids’ backs. This is the ideal time to remember that. 🙂

The most prominent thought I’ve had today was that my brother died before I became who I was going to be. He died before he became who he was going to be. He’s forever the Harley-loving, dirt-bike riding, record-ruining, streaking, beer-drinking, pot-smoking little brother who can do no wrong.
We didn’t get the chance to see each other as real adults. (What even is a real adult?)
I have no idea what he’d make of my work. He was most definitely a reader but would he have been proud of me for putting myself and my work out there?
No clue.
Would he appreciate the work? The weeks, months, frustration, and joy that go into each book?
No idea.
He’d probably appreciate my love of tequila.
That’s the thing when you lose someone young. No one knows. There are no answers. Just a void.
Does he have any idea how strange it is living in a world without him?
Probably not.
Or maybe he does.
Someone once told me a lot of things that I can’t explain, accurate things, not the generic wishy-washy nonsense that I expected to hear. It was an accidental meeting. There was no way for the person to research the things I was told or learn the speech pattern of a dead man.

After all was said and done my brother did everything his way: