Have a picture of Craigory the apprentice magician and his teacher, Tyroneasaurus Red.

Why, you ask?

I’ve thought for a while that I could make one awesome Patreon, but the question is always how I entice people to join up.  I certainly only support Patreons when I’m sure that I’ll like the content. 

So what to do?  A trial run!  Here’s how we do:

I get up to a lot of creative shenanigans, but writing is the primary one. For example:

Sometimes I draw my book characters, or scenes from D&D games.  This one’s both:

Speaking of D&D, the best parts of game nights tend to end up on Twitter:

Sometimes I write poetry!  Sometimes it gets published!  Rarely is it a serious, dignified affair.

I make things in the 3D world too.  Like this sculpture-in-progress of an alien (who is an absolute cinnamon roll who tries his best).  Book character.

There’s also the fact that I tend to document funny things in my life, either with comic strips…

…or by livetweeting my writing process.

You can probably tell I have a lot of fun with this. 

With all of it, really!  And that’s what I’ll be aiming to share, when I get set up officially.

Until then, I’ll be posting more free samples and accepting feedback.

Have one more:

At long last, We’re the Weird Aliens is available across the board! Paperback and ebook, everywhere books are sold. If you like stories about aliens giving Earthlings the side-eye, then this anthology is for you.

And in tangentally-related news, my Patreon will be redecorating soon, for those who are curious what my next project will be. (The higher tiers get to vote).

(There’s a strong chance I’ll be writing more Fantasyland + Humans Are Weird.)

(It’s gonna be such fun.)

True story. 

What do you personally look for in a Patreon?  Presonally, I tend to support people whose work I’ve followed for a while, so I know that (A) it’s content that I enjoy and (B) it’s a person I’m comfortable supporting.  What else?

I ask because mine is going nowhere, despite my best efforts.  I know it’s unfortunate timing, since nobody’s earning much right now, and new things feel risky. 

But people are also impulse-buying everything from hair dye to wheelbarrows, so I know that $3 a month for entertainment is not outside the realm of possibility.

I wrote a short story to go with the comic, now up on Patreon!  This was a fun one.  I got to include the species I made up for that first short story I ever published (which was also a Humans Are Weird story). 

I’m enjoying this excuse to come up with more of these stories.  When I first thought up this character, I never suspected she might have this many adventures in space. 

So.  Much.  Fun.

My Patreon is almost live!

I’m pushing all the buttons now. Can’t wait. It’s gonna be great.

Who doesn’t like some good robo-sass?  This is a great bit of flash fiction by Dee Caples, written to a writing prompt from my Patreon.  

The suggestion was to write about an argument over which is best: human or robot.  

———————

Who’s Bad Now?
By Dee Caples

“Robots sink when they swim in the ocean.” I mark X in the top left corner of the Tic Tac Toe board Ominious has drawn on the top of the table where we’re playing cards.

He marks an O in the top right corner. “We don’t need to breathe underwater.”

“We don’t rust,” I say, marking the middle grid left.

His square vocal grill almost has a grin when he says, “Neither do I.” Rules are that if one makes a valid point that contradicts the other player, he gets to make two marks. Omnious marks bottom left and bottom right with Os. “I’m made of heavy-duty plastic and am waterproof.”

We’re playing three games at once, if you get right down to it. Our oldest game is one- upsmanship, Who’s Better? Robots or Humans? Tic Tac Toe decides it. We’re also playing 21. It’s my turn as dealer. I have a seven in the hole and who knows what Omnious has. Talk about poker faces! We both have our penny antes out, a bolt each. Bolts are pennies, nuts are nickels and cotter pins are dimes. Since I’m a mechanic, these are things both of us can use. Omnious keeps his winnings in an old coffee can and it’s way heavier than my Crown Royal bag. He shoves a nut forward. “Nickel to ya.”

I put my nut into the pot and smile, reaching over to cut him off with an X. “Humans can love!” Then I notice I’m screwed. “Aw, man!”

“Robots have no emotions.” He marks his O in the right middle square. “A definite plus, in my book.”

“Wait.” I’m eager to find any reason to not lose. “How can we argue a subjective point?”

“You brought it up. I win. Hit me.”

I scowl and turn his next card face up. A six. I get an ace and flip it face up. “I call this eleven.” So I have to declare myself and turn up the seven. “Eighteen showing, punk. Dime to ya,” I say, tossing in a cotter pin.

He sees my dime and bumps me a dime. As winner he makes the next grid and puts a circle in the top left corner. “Robots can fly. Hit me.”

I scowl and chew my toothpick to shreds. Omnious knows how much I envy his ability to just take off and make contrail. “Two to ya,” I say, placing his next card and throwing a nut into the pot. “You’re going to bust. I betcha. And humans don’t need to be plugged up to recharge.”

I make my X in the center of the grid. He sees my nut and raises me a nut then marks the top right. “Robot batteries don’t get aneurysms. You’re not taking a card?”

“Sticking,” I say, tossing in a cotter pin to add to the pot.

He matches it. “Hit me.” I deal him a three. Jeez. If only I’d taken that card. “A dime on that three.”

I spit out my toothpick and stare at his grey plastic face as I reach over, sight unseen and grab another, twiddling it with my tongue as I think then add my cotter pin to the pot. “Robots can’t invent jokes,” and I carve out an X in the top middle.

“Hit me,” he says.

“You have eleven showing!” I remind him.

“I am aware of that.” Somehow his canned voice comes out rather snooty.

“Here, then, bitch!” I snap and place his next card face up. A seven. “Ha!”

He makes an O in the bottom center of the grid then lays his cards out. “But we do have perfect comedic timing.” He looks straight at me as he turns up his hole card. A three. “Twenty-one without busting. An automatic win.”

I yell and throw down my hand, snatch up my Crown Royal bag and leave the table with a red face. As I stomp away he rubs sand into my wounds. “I’m also an expert card counter. O in bottom right corner. I’ll mark you in the middle but I’m not a sore loser so O in bottom left. I win.”

Cheater!

I’ve posted the first Writing Prompt of the Week on Patreon. The best piece of writing done to one of these prompts will win a mini-contest.

Bit o’ fun, really. I like the first prompt I’m starting off with.