Writer of Things

Okay, “Writer of Things,” is an admittedly dumb tagline. But also, accurate—I’ve written ad copy, chapters for Frommer’s Travel Guides, features for trade publications, technical writing, web content, etcetera. But bubbling away in the background has always been this heart thing, this short stories and poems and ramblings thing, which has lately precipitated out into a couple of literary-ish, upmarket-ish, speculative fiction novels.

Band of Goats

The Band of Goats book cover, white, with a goat skull in black ink.

“Band of Goats,” is about a roadie in the post-apocalypse working for the world’s last amplified band. They’re on a mission to find an El Dorado called Paradise City, where all their musician’s dreams come true—if only they could find the place. Until they do, they’ll stay on the road dodging cannibals, groupies and hostile audiences to bring music love and ecstasy to the heart of a savage world. At a reasonable cover, of course.

This little unit shifter comes complete at 92,000 words! It’s just waiting for the right, motivated agent! Act now!

Band of Goats Teasers

I started making some teasers for Band of Goats, a little eye candy, a hint of what I see in my mind’s eye when I imagine the book. Other teasers are available on my posts page. I hope you’ll check them out!

The Anarchetype

“The Anarchetype,” exists in a genre I’m calling “bio-noir,” a term I may or may not have invented. There might be an issue with some Belgian chocolates. That aside, the “noir” in my “bio noir”, like all noir, is dark shadows and disillusionment, stark lighting and moral ambiguity, femme fatales and cynical detectives. But “bio- noir” comes wrapped in a speculative, twisting, double helix of near-future, grounded, bio-engineered possibility.

Into this possibility comes Rosalind—an anarchistic, genius wunderkind with a genetic axe to grind against the world in general and the powers in it that destroyed her family. Rosalind’s dangerous, wild, unpredictable, and Agent X knows it. As a contractor for the Genetically Recoverable Assets Bureau (GRAB) he’s cleaned up a lot of Rosalind’s mutated messes. But now, just as he’s closer than ever to Rosalind, something seems off. He keeps… glitching. Losing touch. Has Rosalind done something to him? Or is it the booze, and the pills, and stress of working for an agency that’s lost its humanity, and a cause he no longer believes in? Seems like only Rosalind can say. But when the two meet, each winds up questioning what it truly means to be human.

Prequel and sequel ready! 90,000 words! Today only! Tomorrow also maybe!

Upcoming…

Rust never sleeps. Working on one about a ghost ship factory-trawler in the Bering Sea slaughtering and sinking over and over to the chagrin of its continuously trapped lone survivor. Title TBA.

Tell us about myself.

  • I live in Portland OR on the slopes of an extinct volcano.
  • I love music, both listening and playing. But who doesn’t?!
  • I was born in the South. I live in the Pacific Northwest.
  • I’ve been paid to flip burgers, splice DNA, design graphics, play music, build condos, count fish, write… a shambolic career path; that might be the best description.

Connections

I nuked all my social media accounts back around 2020 due to a sensitive gag reflex triggered by the tech-bro oligarchy. But if there’s a book to sell? I’m all in, baby!

Bluesky, Instagram, YouTube and Substack!

Or direct line me at: tomu@tomuwares.com.

In Conclusion

Thanks for stopping by. Get in touch. Stay tuned. I’m honored.