I do so wish I had even the faintest vestige of graphical talent; if I could draw merely a fraction of the things in my head, Holy Fucking Mother of bat-piss!

If a picture is a worth a kiloword, then I’ve a head crammed full of photos jammed every-which-way which makes a trillion-petabyte drive seem little more than an over-exposed Polaroid - you know, one half-ruined along the diagonal because it was left out in the sun by a couple of under-aged retards after they were done sucking fuzz-encrusted day-old gummi-bears off the bottom of it.

There’s just so much I don’t even know where to begin; I mean, really - pick a Galactic branch, an arm, a cluster, a system, some planets, and we’ll go from there.

But I don’t think that’s where it’s at, at ALL; nosirrebob. Not when I’ve got a whole mess of characters ready to go, so let’s line up ‘em up, and I’ll go from another direction entirely.

More Later...Of that, I feel most certain.


~JMB