Down the Dark Path Books, Paintings, and delicious darkness from J Edward Neill

Category Archives: Tessera Guild!

Thanksgiving for Zombies

November 24, 2015 | humor, Life, Tessera Guild! | Permalink

During Thanksgiving week, it used to be a tradition of mine to get my ass to Florida (St. Augustine, Clearwater, Naples…) and eat entire restaurants out of business. Those were my holiday-cations, and they were epic. I’d lay siege to huge buffets, soak up gallons of wine and cocktails, and float atop heated pools like a bloated corpse. I […]

Leaves are falling…autumn is here

September 17, 2015 | Life, Tessera Guild! | Permalink

When all the smoking, smoldering, blackened furnaces of summer finally die out… …here’s what we love about the next season to come:   Nothing beats autumn. It’s the best season for writing, the best season for existing. Summer is great for sports, spring for de-hibernating, and winter for all things indoors, but autumn……sips of Scotch on […]

Twenty One Questions for Humanity

January 28, 2015 | Links!, Tessera Guild! | Permalink

Compiled from my two recent articles over at Tessera Guild (here and here) and with a bonus question added, I present to you: 21 Questions for Humanity Regarding Music Lyrics Is there anything that hasn’t already been said? Any topic at all? The Secrets of the Universe If revealed to you, and if they challenged everything […]

Summer sucks for writing

July 2, 2014 | Tessera Guild!, Writing! | Permalink

North Georgia. Circa the dead of summer. It’s hot out there. It’s sunny, muggy, steamy. My insides are cooked. My skull is melting… I’m more or less taking a vacation from writing this weekend, but before I dump ice over my head, shut my laptop down, and take my long-awaited rum runner/margarita bath, I have a few […]

The Monster Mash

April 5, 2014 | Books!, Dark Moon Daughter, Tessera Guild!, Writing! | Permalink

   He was three-thousand winters dead, as deaf to Andelusia’s bleating as a coffin full of bones. His very presence was evil, his breaths curling like smoke from beneath his iron mask. As he dragged her through Midnon, his passing withered moths and turned bowlfuls of red apples to ash… – Reference to Mogru, Servant […]