Last Updated February 2nd, 2001
The book is on hold. My illustrator, who is partway finished, has had some life-changing issues come up. We're currently discussing release dates for 2001. I can't say I blame her. The year 2000 was very eventful for me as well. But at least I can be bribed with cake. :)As my fans may or may not know, "Time For a Walrus," was supposed to be one book. Currently, it's 2.9 books. The first two are done, writing wise. "Punk Walrus and the Soapstone Gargoyle," the first of this trilogy, is written, and 70% illustrated. I really want this out this year. The second book, "Punk Walrus and the Very, Very Ugly Idol," is written, but no illustrations have been planned. "Punk Walrus and the Magnificent Engine," is 90% written (it's in the "okay, it's done, lets clean it up" phase), and obviously, no illustrations.
I will not even attempt to guess at due dates. This is not my main source of income, but a hobby that makes back about 50% of the cost. So it gets pushed back due to family needs, work obligations, and just plain procrastination and laziness. I do this for fun, and while I am grateful and honored that people really, really, want to see the next few books, I have to balance my priorities. But thank you for your kind words and encouragements at all the conventions I go to.
If you want sneak peaks at them, visit me on one of my tours and keep an eye on this site, since I will most likely post snippets of them. But here are some previews on what you can expect:
Julie is taken away from the band by confused, yet well-meaning social workers. In Punk's depressive funk, he oddly agrees to a suggestion by Sid to vacation in Romania, lured by a dog-eared travel brochure. But all is not well with their plans, as their junkie drummer Robb witnesses a Mafia hit in Paramus, New Jersey. Soon, their vacation takes them to Transylvania, where the workers are lazy, the hotels blow up with no reason, and at least one quaint little inn is the pivotal point between centuries of poor hotel service. Why does the staff completely change at night, and what to they change into? Why do they hear the echoes of small yappy dogs amid the constant thunder and rain that plagues this land? And why is Robb acting so strange since he has started taking those vitamin pills? The story twists and turns like dark forest paths, taking Punk and his band on a tour of madness that spans the dark centuries of Eastern Europe's past, and may convince you the author is sick of the "I'm a hip vampire" theme the alterative and Goth media has been taking lately.
Cybertusk is as good as dead. One of the major problems about writing media spoof, especially about the computer industry, is that it gets outdated so quickly. When I started the story, CompuServe was doing better than AOL, Usenet was king, and the web was a new concept. Well... some of those jokes got pretty stale pretty fast. I decided to paste up what I did have back up on the web. Read and enjoy the old and outdated in-jokes.