Moe Lane's Blog, page 67

Chicken Pot Pie!

Homemade, too. Well, I used a pie shell. My wife inhaled quite a bit of it*, so I’m scoring it as a success.

Used this recipe. It did need more salting, but that’s an easy fix and arguably better than the alternative. Oh, and I added corn. A chicken pot pie without corn is frankly ridiculous.

Moe Lane

*My first slice was good. My second slice was washed down with a beer, so it was even better.

Oh, hey. Meta Stole my book.

Dreary details here. Via . You can buy FROZEN DREAMS here.

Surveys for the Fermi Resolution Worldbook Backerkit have just gone out!

Be sure to fill them out promptly, and check out the pre-order store while you’re there. I should also note that while my science fiction horror novel GHOSTS ON AN ALIEN WIND is not available for pre-order, it’s still a good book and you should buy it anyway.

In other, game-related news: I’m working with my layout person on the worldbook, and it is proceeding according to plan. I’ve also given out my parts of the cross-collaboration reward with Lead & Chrome; hopefully that’ll be coming out soon. Once the first is checked off, we’ll be concentrating on the stretch goal adventure. So, things are moving along.

Thanks for backing! If you didn’t, think about pre-ordering. Then I can thank you for that.

Moe Lane

#commissionearned

BEHOLD! A *guaranteed* horrible March Madness bracket.

I know nothing about basketball, really. I have no interest in the contest. I am blissfully ignorant of the teams. I chose these names in a semi-random fashion, thus eliminating that potential benefit. I am even ignorant of what constitutes a ‘good’ strategy. This may very well be the worst March Madness bracket in existence.

It is my gift to you. No matter what happens, you will be able to say, “Well. At least I did better than Moe.”

‘Dead.’

Re-upping because my wife and I started spontaneously singing this song this evening. I also feel like everybody in my generation who went to college had this album. It was just one of those things.

Dead, They Might Be Giants

#commissionearned

Reminder: REVIEW the BOOKS you READ.

Review mine, review other people’s, review the books you randomly bought. It’s all good… and, really, it’s all good. The more reviews authors get, the more likely it becomes that they sell more books. This is, like, some weird statistics thing, or something like that. I dunno. I just push on the clicky-board until the magic mirror shows me the words.

Moe Lane

PS: And that’s review, not rate! Add a few sentences! Copy the book cover! It’ll take you all of five minutes, honest to God.

#commissionearned

COYOTE VS. ACME back on the menu?

Might be, might be: “It looks like Warner Bros. may finally be ready to sell Coyote vs. Acme, the live-action/animated hybrid film that was shelved as part of the studio’s infamous cost-cutting spree.” It’d be going for fifty million to Ketchup Entertainment, which bought another Looney Tunes movie earlier so presumably they know what they’ve signed up for.

Does this exhumation from the vaults give hope for BATGIRL fans? Are there still BATGIRL fans, after all this time? Tune in next week to find out!

Moe Lane

PS: I still expect this flick to demonstrate that there was a reason it got thrown in the vault to begin with, but I might be wrong.

Tweet of the Day, Respect The Hustle (And Back The Backerkit) edition.

I’ve been there. You do what you have to do. No shame, no regrets. I wish I had thought to try to use my cat.

That Backerkit link again: https://t.co/SyxwfOggSY

— Kenneth Hite (@kennethhite) March 19, 2025

03/19/2025 Snippet, PICKMAN’S MODELS.

This is getting weird.

…

These stairs had to be easily ten times as long as the first set, and Tobias started wondering halfway through why his subconscious felt it necessary to make him walk through every one of them. It felt vaguely sadistic, or at least antagonistic. He told himself that it was probably an obscure punishment for some past neurosis, and kept going.

The staircase ended in a clearing of oak trees, if oak trees glowed like something out of an old Azz and Hastur cartoon. Briefly, Tobias wished that the gear on the table had included a flashlight — but then he realized it didn’t matter. The eldritch green light was easily enough to let him see the grove.

Including the bodies littering it.

Tobias squatted to look at one. It wasn’t a person, thankfully, although its paws looked far too much like hands for comfort. It sort of looked like a cat or rat, or maybe a monkey, but with tentacles where its mouth should be–

“It’s got a mouth, Boss,” Buckley’s voice came from behind him. Tobias jumped at that, and refused to feel bad about it. “A real nasty one, too,” Buckley went on, ignoring Tobias’s reaction. “All full of teeth that like to chow down on human meat.”

“I’m impressed with myself,” Tobias told Buckley. “I didn’t think I had the kind of imagination to come up with something this weird.”

03/19/2025 Snippet, LE BETE.

I’m skipping ahead a little.

The surprising thing about being elf-shot was how painless it was. It was not just the lack of physical agony, either. Joseph literally felt nothing right now, including fear, despair, or even boredom. He had always assumed that elf-shot prisoners spent their last hours upon hours contemplating their crimes before being revived and carted off to the guillotine. Actually going through it himself was quite the eye-opener.

Well. His eyes were still closed. Elf-shot did not prevent blinks from starting, but it did keep them from ending. It also affected memory more than Joseph had anticipated; from the smell of things, he had beshat and pissed himself at least once each, but he had no recollection of doing so. He was remarkably calm about that, too.

From the sounds of battle in the distance, he must have been in this state for some time. Or were they in the distance? Joseph had this odd, nagging suspicion that the fighting was actually getting closer to him, but any attempt to focus on the moment proved fruitless, without even resentment at his failure to show for it. He supposed that eventually he’d know, one way or the other. It would have been something to look forward to, but he wasn’t capable of that either right now.

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