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WATCH: I discuss The Camelot Kids and Shirley Link with Lindsay Buroker, Joseph Lallo & Jeffrey M. Poole

WATCH: I discuss The Camelot Kids and Shirley Link with Lindsay Buroker, Joseph Lallo & Jeffrey M. Poole

Wow, that was fun! I got to sit down with three excellent authors and talk about writing and marketing Fantasy books. We covered my philosophy on marketing (i.e. keep it comfy and save the challenge for the writing!), how artwork can help a project come to life and how authors need to go local to sell books.

I’ve enjoyed Lindsay Buroker‘s work for a couple of years now, so it was a real honor to be speaking with her. I’m also finding the work of Jeffrey Poole and Joseph Lallo to be a blast, too!

If you write Fantasy or Science Fiction books then this podcast is a must. Tell ’em Ben sent you!

Watch the interview now. Notice how I’m doing a hand puppet show? It went really well! Okay, I’m kidding (maybe…)





Disposable Sam (a 150 Word Story)

Disposable Sam (a 150 Word Story)

Having a claw for a hand wasn’t so bad. Its prongs could grasp any surface. In fact, Sam had enough control to pick up an egg or crush a head, which is what he was doing.

The scream strained the average eardrum. Underling scientists whined in the corner of the lab. Sam’s victim was the scumball who cut his hand off, among other things, and used him as an experiment. No permission asked.

He deserved a death that treated him like dirt.

“Why?” Sam growled. The prong that was his new middle finger prepared to burst through the guy’s cranium.

“Oh God! It was a step!” he shrieked. He saw that Sam was listening. “A big step. One more Disposable and we…EVERYONE can live forever in steel bodies!”

“One more Disposable, huh?”

Sam broke his arms and tossed him to the scientists.

“Yay. There’s your Disposable. Get to work.”




Squeeze (a 150 word story)

Squeeze (a 150 word story)

Alicia hated the rubber skin. Military sciencers could prattle on about pre-oxygenated cells and high-pain thresholds, but then she’d have to shove her blaster up their noses. Might make this whole operation worthwhile.

She put Joe in the crosshairs. One squeeze would do it.

As she floated in space, with a thin layer of synthetic film separating her from spritzing Juxta’s smallest moon, she recalled …

“Pass me a napkin, please?” he’d asked in the coffee shop.

“If you pay me,” she’d answered. Since Joe was the richest man on Juxta, and everyone knew it, he laughed.

So easy. All his guards and AIx. But a charming girl could still slither into his top-secret, cloaked satellite lab?

“Sorry, cutey,” she said into her oxygen tank.

Joe faced her.


He watched her helmet shatter. She looked at him with bulging bionic eyes that would broadcast the incident to her HQ.

Good, Joe thought.
-Ben Zackheim