It’s Tuesday again! (They say it’s a new Tuesday, but it feels the same. Like a week long groundhog day, made longer by the fact that my wife won’t let us watch Russian Doll until it has concluded… in it’s entirety.)

But Tuesday. And it’s on the tail end of Valentine’s day, so I figured our song this week would have to be Wham! (I said so last week, and I’m a man of my word. Because I said I am.)

If Deadpool introduced you to George Michael then a simultaneous shame and kudos to you.

Before we move any further with this, everybody pour one out for George Michael. RIP. Rare it is for a man with two first names to find such success.

But we aren’t going to talk about the song. What is there to say about Wham! that hasn’t already been said by Deadpool?

“Wham! Make It Big is the album that George and Andy earned the exclamation point.”

So we’ll move on.

Sexophone

Look, I don’t care what you think you know, I invented the term sexophone. Maybe someone else said it first but I discovered it on my own and I was the first to register a trademark.

So suck on those legal lemons.

Also trademarked is the short story I’m going to write, inspired by George Michael. It’s like a sexy version of the pied piper. With fewer pedophilic undertones. (I’m shooting for roughly none, to be exact.)

I’ll title it The Sexophonist. And then a subtitle. Something catchy. Something Original. Oh! Careless Whisper.

The Sexophonist: Careless Whisper

Instead of children, the sexophonist will whisk away women and men alike by the dulcet tones of his seductive sax.

And then, because they are under his spell and no clear consent has been given, they’ll all just die or something. I don’t know. It’s a work in progress.

The children will praise the sexophonist as a hero, because they no longer have to do chores or eat their broccoli before dessert.

So at this point, the story just turns into another child apocalypse in the vein of Gone, The New Order, and The Jimmy Neutron movie. A world where only the less dumb survive, until eventually they are old enough to succumb to the sexophone’s song, and are lured away to (potentially sexy) death.

Anyways…

If that sounds shitty (because you lack refined literary taste), then maybe you’ll be into my more serious (but still humorous in ways) novel, The Sarimist Loyal.

Do you like magic, monsters, and unnamed horrors? How about a librarian turned soldier protagonist? A reverent young man in an irreverent world. A little bit of a coming of age story, with all the light and dark (extra on the dark) that comes with it.

There’s horror, humor, fighting, language, and sex. It’s dark fantasy with some science fiction. Dark Science Fantasy as I’ve been calling it. Some say Grimdark, but I say not. Unless you like Grimdark. And if you like romance, lump that in too. A Grimdark Romance.

It’s got all that shit. And it’s the best damned book ever written, whether it is or not. If you say not, I’ll shrug my shoulders and get back to writing my awesome-ass books.

[DISCLAIMER: EDMUND J. ASHER IS NOT, NOR HAS HE EVER BEEN, A SALESMAN. THE CLOSEST HE HAS EVER BEEN IS TRAVELING FROM DOOR TO DOOR, IMPERSONATING A DOMINO’S PIZZA DELIVERY DRIVER. YES, THERE IS SAUSAGE ON THIS PIZZA. IT’S GROSS BUT THAT’S WHAT YOU ORDERED.]

The Sarimist Loyal

Genre: Awesome as fuck.

Coming Soon. Very Soon. And It’s Coming For You.

Movie Adaptation In Theater’s This Fall. (That’s not actually true. A fall, but not this fall. Like, a decade from now. But it will definitely launch in the fall. The prophecy was clear on that point.)

If you want to know more, I’m working on a synopsis that I’m gonna stick over on my book page. That’s not done yet. But Soon. If you want blog updates, go over to the right (at the top of the sidebar) and give me your email. Relax. Just your email.

I want your email, not your life. (That’s a music reference. Next week on BAMusic, Cage the Elephant. This shit writes itself.)

If you just want to know when the book is launching then you can sign up for updates on the homepage. My mailing list is a mess right now. Like me. Not like my book. The book is awesome.

I don’t know when to shut up. Don’t know when to quit. So I’ll let Seether play me out with, you guessed it, their cover of Careless Whisper.

The only acceptable cover.