“Frank” is short and sad and sweet. It may be a little too Dollhouse in the ending, though. I might have to rework that some. We never do end up meeting the Doc, except once in a dream. But a draft is done.
I don’t know what I’ll do with it. Nothing until I do something about the man with a heart in a box.
I had considered maybe polishing “Frank” up and selling him on Kindle for 99 cents, but people have their whole novels up there for 99 cents. Can you really ask someone to buy a 4,300 word short story about a zombie for the same price as a whole book?
God damn it. Publishing these days is fucked up.
I’m just going to sit here floundering around in obscurity. If you need me, I’ll be growing old over by the desserts.