That said, and while you’re at it: take a listen to what the brilliant Lisa Wimberger - author and founder of the groundbreaking Neurosculpting Institute in Denver, CO - has to say about my new book, The Change. Because it totally blew my mind. And it just might work on yours, too!

Lisa and I have been friends for decades, based entirely on mountains of mutual love, respect, and delight at the fact of each other’s existence. Whenever we get a chance to hang out and talk, it’s pretty much just like the One Long Conversation we shared back in February. (Which is to say, wild and all OVER the cozmic place!)

But for her to understand my intent so fully – and then to sincerely love my book sooooo much that she had to tell her friends (and then tell them why) – is just the fucking best. Check it out, why don’tcha?

And for more on the Neurosculpting Institute, click here!

THANKS! LOVE Y’ALL!!! Have a beautiful day!

Yer pal in the trenches,

Skipp

There’s an awesome dive bar on the corner of SE 82nd and Flavell, here in Portland, called the Checkered Flag II. Its ferocious owner, Elizabeth, has fought hard to make it a place where kind, open-hearted badass people can feel safe shooting pool, having a few drinks, listening to a well-curated jukebox, eating ridiculously-good diner food, and just being human beings without letting total assholes wander in to ruin their day.

In short, it’s a glorious place. And Garrett’s mission is to keep commandeering the outdoor patio for events such as this, where writers of weird shit are joined onstage by puppet shows, and freaky stuffed Tinglers and other assorted plush monsters are cheerfully on sale, along with the books from which we’re reading.

As is often the case, I closed out the show. And it was a pleasure to break out a fresh copy of The Change, and give it its performance debut. The result is a tight ten-minute set that, I hope, shows you a good time! ENJOY!!!

To get your own copy, click here for all the possibilities! THANKS!!!

In related news, I’ll be spending Halloween at a big media event called Spooky Empire. They’re flying me out to Orlando, Florida, where I’ll be speaking, reading, doing panels, signing books, participating in goofy game shows, and generally spreading festive holiday cheer wherever I may roam!

Also on hand will be celebrity guests Susan Sarandon, Geena Davis, Juliette Lewis, Billy Zane, Gena Gershon, and Jena Malone, not to mention Steve-O, Clint Howard, Jenna Jameson, a shitload of TV people I don’t know, a couple Terrifier people I don’t know, just about everybody from the classic Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and a ton of horror con stalwarts (Doug Bradley, Tom Savini, Danny Trejo, and on and on).

But on the writer’s track, I’ll be holding down the Bizarro fort with Bridget D. Brave, while dedicated horroristas Owl Goingback, Douglas Ford, Sally Darling, Usman T. Malik, Amanda Desiree, John Urbancik, and a dozen awesome others will be bringin’ the dark, fun braaaaains.

For more info, click here! HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!!!

I gotta admit, it’s been a weird-ass week for me. Being sicker than a barrel full of quarantined dogs didn’t help. Nor did having a paid gig get put on sudden hold.

But that shit happens. You just ride it out.

To me, the substantially weirder thing was that I had a TOTAL CRISIS OF CONFIDENCE, wherein I suddenly found myself second-guessing every single move I made, or even thought about making.

Which I know, for many people, is a day that ends with “y”. But I am not one of them.

When it comes to creative decisions in particular, I am almost ridiculously unhesitant. Not because I think that every synapse that fires through my goofy skull is spun from the finest gold, or that I am incapable of grossly overestimating the value of my own work.

It’s more that I have cultivated a strong sense of True North, over the years. So that when ideas spring up, I can generally recognize the difference between the ones worth following and the ones leading nowhere. At least nowhere worth going.

Part of it is knowing what I really care about, what truly matters to me. Part of it is gauging the all-important “fun” quotient (cuz as I often say with regards to the making of art-o-tainment, “If it ain’t fun, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IT?”).

Most of it is just the understanding that I know what works for me. If I’m being true to myself, I will know what to do. It’s part of the design, and all I have to do is honor it.

Not THIS week, though! This week, I’ve been like a pingpong ball, either flying back and forth or rolling under the couch, and the couch weighs a ton, and it’s glued to the floor.

This week, every single decision I made felt like the absolute right one for about five seconds, immediately followed by the soul-throttling fear that I was making a terrrrrrrible mistaaaaake.

Which is why I haven’t posted the interview I announced on Friday, or written a word on Book Two, or basically done shit besides laying in bed, blowing my nose and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.

But with that has come a realization, and I think that it’s a good one.

And the realization is: I don’t know what to do right now. Which means that it’s a perfect time to do nothing. Just lay back. Get better. Assess without stress. Until my needle finds True North again.

Most mistakes come from attempting to force your will to do a thing that your gut is advising against. It may not even be the thing that’s wrong. It may just be the wrong moment.

Whatever the case, admitting you don’t know what to do is waaaaay the fuck better than just doing the thing that doesn’t feel quite right, out of stubbornness or pride or just being a dumbass. It creates a safe space for the options to settle, and the dust to clear.

So apologies for assurances I didn’t quite keep. (Interview? No interview? Different interview? Interview shminterview?) When it feels right, I’ll do it. If it doesn’t, I won’t.

At least my nose has stopped running.

And I’m kinda glad I wrote this down.

There are few things more gratifying in this life than knowing that a cat wants to read your book. But HUMANS DO, TOO! And they’re the ones, after all, who are picking up the mail.

Just my little way of saying that the first two waves of THE CHANGE have gone out, with a third departing this afternoon. Which is to say:

CHANGE IS ON THE WAY! GET YOURS TODAY!!!

And please stay tuned for the first in a series of spicy little interview segments, shot here at home by housemate Nik Robinson, telling the twisty decades-long tale of how this book came to be.

They ain’t super-fancy, but the story behind the story is nothing if not historical. FIRST ONE COMES OUT TODAY! (So if you get two Substack emails in a row from me, that’s why!)

AUTHOR-TURNED-STILL-AN-AUTHOR’S NOTES: Once again, I’m digging into the well for words: this one dipping back a full decade to 2016, and the first time ol’ Cankles McTacoTits took us spelunking into his wannabe-Emperor’s hell. (Thanks for the hilarious nickname, Jennifer Welch!)

It’s the same old story, trying to make sense of the patently nonsensical. But as I always like to say sometimes: you cannot make sense of this world until you embrace the irrational, the illogical, the swirling madness in the heart and skull of the entire human enterprise.

It may not be ideal, but it is the world we’ve got. So this message still stands. HOPE IT COMES IN HANDY!

I’m a guy who tends to think of this life as an ongoing intimate experience of the Big Picture -- the ALL-THAT-IS -- as perceived by whoever the hell we are this time, through our little looking glasses.

Which is to say: THERE’S ONE BIG THING GOING ON, in every possible detail, well unto infinity. And we’re all these little eyes, trying to make sense of it, with whatever depth of vision we’ve got.

Some of us have an intimate grasp of surface textures, but have a hard time peering beneath, and take consensus reality’s “real life” for granted. We call them “realists”. Some of us LIVE beneath the surface, have a hard time believing our reality’s truly real, or accepting how crazy it is. We call them “dreamers”.

Both groups -- and any subset you might care to choose -- are desperately trying to make sense of life. All of us hungry for answers.

Speaking personally, the only thing that’s worked for me is to TRY TO UNDERSTAND EVERYONE. Because I honestly suspect that everyone has a piece of the puzzle. And the only way to solve the puzzle is to use every piece.

Even the ones you don’t like.

When I look at the human race -- its relationship to itself, and everything that lives, from insects and microbes to the universe itself -- I try to keep track of every open eye, and every blinder before it. Try to remember that EVERY PART OF THIS IS EXPERIENCING THIS AS ITSELF. But is part of the greater whole.

This allows me to relax behind the struggle, even as it makes me want to help -- in any way I can -- to build bridges between disparate visions.

If we all could see what each other can see, we might actually be able to make sense of this shit. Taken together, I have no doubt that there is a Bigger Picture. The Biggest Picture of Them All.

That’s the one I want to see.

P.S. — My new novel, The Change, is widely available now! Click here for all the ways you can join in the Good Troublemaking fun!

HI, EVERYBODY!!! I’ve been trying to keep my mouth shut over the past couple weeks, while ironing out one little publishing snafu after another and going, “JESUS, I suck at this!”

But the happy fact of the matter is that THE WAITING IS OVER! The first shipments of books have arrived, with lots and lots more on the way tonight!

So the post office will be seeing a whooooole lotta me on Friday, and into next week (and then hopefully for the rest of my life).

Because I have LOTS OF SIGNED COPIES OF THE CHANGE TO SEND, in both paperback and hardcover, thanks to dozens and dozens of long-suffering pre-orderers, getting your orders at last! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU ALL!!!

Tomorrow, Ingram will include The Change in its new listings for bookstores and libraries. Which means now’s a great time to request it from YOUR favorite bookstores and libraries. Cuz the more it’s out there, the more people have a chance to check it out.

Along those same lines, I’m booking signings, readings, speaking engagements, and other performance-based Change-flavored events all over Portland and beyond, including Spooky Empire in Orlando, Florida over the Halloween weekend. I’ll keep y’all posted on dates, as they happen!

Also this week, I begin releasing an 18-part interview on the history of The Change, here and on its new Instagram account (plus Facebook and YouTube). These will be the first of many vertical video experiments we’ll be doing, building out the universe and having fun in the process.

And finally…did you see all those fucking Post-It notes in that picture up top? That’s seriously just a FRACTION of the world-building I’ve been doing over the last two months, on Books Two and Three. Meticulously mapping out the further adventures of those who survive The Change. (And even a couple that don’t!)

So I am thrilled to announce that – one thousand-plus motherfucking Post-It notes later – I’M ACTUALLY NOW WRITING BOOK TWO! Just eight pages in. But I already both creeped myself out and made myself laugh out loud, so that’s a pretty good start!

Will be serializing this book as well, soon as I’m far enough in to legitimately tease you with it. WOOOOO-HOOOOOO!!!

And that’s a wrap on today’s news! If you haven’t already, PLEASE BUY AND READ THIS NICE STORY! It’s the best thing I ever made for you!

READ! REVIEW! TELL YOUR FRIENDS! THANKS!!!

It’s always darkest before the dawn. And the dawn is coming soon. That’s why he’s in such a hurry to build the “Arc de Floomp”, which is the noise it’ll make when Americans tear it back down to rubble. Same with the Ballroom. For the very same reason.

He knows the party is over, and that he better act now if he wants to steal everything left worth stealing. And he’ll need an armed fortress to keep it in.

Because America wants its money back.

I just watched a bunch of Trump-voting truckers and farmers who’re getting thoroughly fucked on diesel and fertilizer. If he and they were in a bar, they would be kicking his ass. It’s not just liberal snivelers from the networks he just banned. It’s a broad swath of America, growing broader by the day.

The world ALSO wants its money back, as war spreads across the Middle East, and our former allies band together because we can no longer be trusted.

He can feel that the walls are closing in.

Unfortunately, he is also insane.

So he wants to build a massive arch that is loaded with snipers and drones and ammo. Who do you think they’re designed to repel? Not Iran. Not Hamas. Certainly not his Dictator Daddy Vlad (also cowering, you’ll note, inside a Russian fortress of his own).

Those guns are to kill Americans, when they come for him at last.

Don’t fucking kid yourself. There is no other reason.

The good news is, we’re about to vote out his lackeys. The good news is, his empire’s crumbling from within. The good news is, Secretary of War Crimes Pete Smegbreath will still face impeachment when the Resmuglican House members come slinking back in, and that there are enough votes to force more of Epstein’s anchor down his throat and out his ass.

That’s why there’s a dawn. And that dawn is breaking.

But let’s stop the arch and the ballroom, shall we? Before it’s too late, maybe?

THANKS!!!

AUTHOR-TURNED-PRODIGAL-INSTRUCTOR’S NOTES: Despite my personal time-honored tradition of being a high school dropout, I really do like teaching. I like helping people figure shit out. I like participating in creative acts, and encouraging people to actualize their visions in real time. IT’S FUN!

So I surprised myself this morning by auditioning for a teaching gig at a Portland institution. (Workshops and online classes, not in actual classrooms or schools.) It’s a money thing, yes. But also a community thing. Will letcha know if it pans out!

Meanwhile, I stumbled upon the following thoughts on my Facebook Memory Flume, dating ten years back. It’s one of the pieces that inspired my desire to do this Substack in the first place. So it’s nice to single it out and give it a spotlight today. HOPE YOU ENJOY!

Tonight, I salute the long, massively-convoluted line between creating from catharsis and creating out of joy. Because, insofar as I can tell, those are the two best reasons for doing it at all.

Creating from catharsis means you’re working out some massive pain. Personal pain. The injustice of the world. You name it, and it pained us. Pretty much as simple as that.

Creating from joy is something else. It’s CREATING FOR FUN. Both to have it, and to spread it.

The thing they have in common is a fundamental digging-into what matters to us most.

Comedy and tragedy. Love and hate. Joy and sorrow. WHAT ELSE YOU GOT? From there, it’s all either caring or not caring. Giving a shit. Or not giving one at all.

This is not about what other people think. (Not giving a shit what other people think, at least half the time, is one of the greatest freedoms I’ve ever granted myself.)

If you were to ask me why I do what I do, I’d say, “I want you as happy and sad and aware and entirely in-the-moment as I am, constantly. Dancing with the damage and delight, the wrong and right, both clearly and forever. Cuz that’s just how it is. And you know it.”

That’s why I do the things I do.

Your whats, hows, and whys are up to you.

P.S. – I spent the day playing with his grandkids, and the night playing with his collaborators. Can safely say that my grandkids were way better in the ball pit, or climbing through the Kid Zone labyrinths. But in terms of making up crazy shit with my grown-up friends, THE SAME RULES APPLY. Which is to say:

It’s all play. All beautiful play.

Here’s to never forgetting how much sheer joy there is in the simple engagement of playful imagination. Cuz you know what? IT’S THE BEST.

I haven’t been on here talking about politics for a while. Not because I’ve ceased to give a shit (I haven’t), but because there are so many people saying all the things I’d want to say, often better than I possibly could.

(Oh, and also, I was writing a book. WHICH YOU CAN BUY RIGHT HERE!!!)

But as the hollowed-out husk of the Republican Party prepares to curl up on itself like a dung beetle in a bonfire, it’s a good time to think about what happens when Trump finally goes down for the count. And how we make sure that absolutely fucking happens.

Obviously, Step #1 is to VOTE THEIR ASSES OUT IN NOVEMBER. Try as he might – and he most certainly will – odds are good he can’t cheat his way out of a landslide. And though he’s not on the ballot technically, he’s the one who’ll be tanking it for everyone else.

But Step # 2 – as the Walking Trumpster Fire well knows – begins with the “I” word. But maybe not the way he thinks. If you can call that thinking.

To quote the great JVL (Jonathan V. Last) of The Bulwark:

Yesterday Rep. Thomas Massie introduced articles of impeachment against Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth. There are eight charges. The first three are for waging war in contravention of the War Powers Resolution of 1973. The fourth is for failing to minimize civilian casualties. This tranche concerns America’s actions in Iran.

Article five is about extrajudicial killings carried out in the Caribbean and Eastern Pacific. Article six concerns Hegseth’s attempt to retaliate against Sen. Mark Kelly, a Navy veteran, including by monkeying with his retired rank. Article seven is about the illegal operation to kidnap Nicolás Maduro. Article eight charges Hegseth with waging an unlawful war in Yemen.

All in all, it’s a pretty thorough document.

You know what else it is? A good start. Thomas Massie just pointed the way for the next Congress. We don’t need to wait for 2029 to start pursuing accountability for the criminal acts carried out by members of the Trump administration.

A Democratic-led House should impeach all of the officials around Trump who have committed high crimes and misdemeanors.

Follow me around the room . . .

Attorney General Todd Blanche should be impeached for his role in covering up the Epstein files. Get him under oath and start asking questions.

Secretary of Commerce Howard Lutnick should be impeached for graft and emoluments with the various trades and deals his sons have pursued.

FBI Director Kash Patel should be impeached for misuse of funds and government property.

Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. should be impeached for recklessly endangering public health and contributing to the deaths of at least seven Americans from measles since his confirmation.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio should be impeached for his part in the illegal scheme to kidnap Maduro and arrange extrajudicial killings.

And here’s the big one:

Vice President JD Vance should be impeached for his part in furthering the Iran war in contravention of the War Powers Resolution of 1973.

I frankly love this idea. Instead of going after The Big Cheese-Colored Man directly, just clip his spidery legs out from under him. Without his functionaries malfunctioning on his behalf, he’s nothing but a demented diaper-baby, flailing around in full tantrum-mode from the safety of his Oval Office crib.

Because their crimes are his crimes, And as the evidence of his overreach caves in all around him, so should the structures he’s so shabbily constructed to support him.

Leaving us with…well, a government again? Or at least the fundamentals, from which to rebuild.

I strongly suggest you read JVL’s full piece, below. And then, if you aren’t already, read him all the fucking time! I may not always agree with him, but I always admire his candor and rigor, the depths to which he’s thinking things through while most of the rest of us just nod our heads.

The Bulwark

Impeach Them. All of Them.

1. Hegseth…

Read more

a month ago · 1032 likes · 474 comments · Jonathan V. Last

Oh, and while you’re trying to remember who to vote against this November, here’s a nice little video that itemizes every single Republican in the federal House and Senate who voted for the Big Beautiful Bullshit Bill. (Alphabetized by state and everything!) ENJOY!!!

I was never what you’d call a relaxed young man. It honestly took me well into my forties to realize what “relaxing” might actually mean.

To me, the closest thing was being IN THE ZONE: creatively focused and on fire for whatever I was making at the moment. And, for true, that remains my default position. When in doubt, get in the zone. Make something cool, with all synapses firing. And make something fiercely alive inside it.

What shifted, I think, was realizing that I was not personally responsible for the fate of the world. That, yes, I had a part to play, and would still play it with all my heart. But that the world was gonna do what the world was gonna do. Had done so long before that little John Skipp guy showed up. And would do so long after he was back down to dust.

Realizing that the weight of the world didn’t actually hang on my scrawny-ass shoulders was, I’m embarrassed to say, a revelation. Cuz, yeah, self-importance is a terrible burden. No wonder I hated myself.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. once said -- and I think I’m quoting correctly -- “We were put on this earth to fart around. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” And that fucking guy’s idea of farting around was writing some of the best books I’ve ever sucked inside my head.

Point being: you wouldn’t BELIEVE how much time I spend just happily farting around now. Letting life be what it is, and letting myself be just who I am, no matter how many deadlines or moral imperatives demand my immediate attention.

And funny thing is: THAT’S THE ZONE, TOO. Playing with a dog, or having a sweet fun conversation with a friend, or just walking down the street and clocking how the light hits the leaves on the nearest tree is just as good as the best thing I ever wrote or shot or played or sang or stood up for.

In fact, the zone got soooooo much sweeter, the second I learned how to relax behind it.

One of the greatest things about relaxing is that I no longer feel like I have to tell you how to feel. Or how to live. Or how to anything. You’ll figure it out, or you won’t. ME, TOO!!!

So I guess what I wish for everyone is the peace that comes from letting go, while still remaining alive and engaged. Because these things are not mutually exclusive.

Speaking personally, I have never felt more engaged. Or more relaxed. Or more alive.

And I just saw a cat that I think needs petting. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!

I’m a people-watcher. Have been one ever since I first became a people. And gradually, for me, it has all come down to this:

 The easiest way to love the human race is to not expect too much of it, or take it too seriously.

We're an amazing species. We really are. However many trillion equally-amazing species we share THIS planet with, just for starters, we've somehow managed to grab and hold the spotlight (at least so far as we're concerned). The "War Against Nature"? WE'RE THE ONLY ONES FIGHTING. Everyone else is just busily being Nature. And wondering what the fuck is our problem. Why we have to act like this.

I suspect we're maybe half-evolved. Slightly past the adolescent growth stage in the long timeline, but still acting out like crazy. Our technology has wildly outpaced our emotional maturity. We outsmart ourselves at every turn, then are stunned by the incredibly stupid decisions we so often wind up making nonetheless.

Much as I'd love us all to live up to our seemingly-infinite potential -- myself most definitely included -- I suspect we've got a long row to hoe indeed before we get anywhere fucking close.

So if it's okay with you, I'm gonna root for every single human on this planet, the same way I root for every other organism on the map. Like I root for my grandchildren, who just stumbled into this world, counting on us to give them clues.

I don't expect ANYONE to live up to my highest expectations. If I did, I would fail that test, too. As a measure of love-worthiness, it's a doomed lose-lose.

But the less I expect of us, the easier it is for me to love us the same way I love dogs, or art, or a glorious sunset.

We're a work-in-progress. With a long way to go. And I love us for it, flaws and all.

That said: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO EVOLVE TO THE NEXT ORDER OF MAGNITUDE. Because that would be swell.

Which means: please feel free to become the next, best possible person you could possibly be.

The universe will thank you.

And I'd most likely love you even more than I already do.

I have always been both horrified by and completely in love with our poor, weird, glorious human race. Never more so than now. To me, that's the price of being awake and paying attention. And wouldn't have it any other way.

One of the great things about being a horror writer, for me, has always been the certain knowledge that there’s nothing horrible that we as a species might not do, given half a chance. So every time it happens, I go, "Yep. There we go again!"

By that exact same token, there’s nothing beautiful or brilliant that we as a species might not do, given half a chance. So every time that happens, I say exactly the same thing.

As a horror writer, I've always considered it my job to understand and embrace the most monstrous parts of ourselves, and all creation. Not to condone the monstrosity, but to understand where it came from. Why it's here. What it wants. What it fears. HOW IT FEELS TO BE THE MONSTER. From the inside. Like the monster I am, at my worst. Just like everybody else.

Failing that, I'm a dishonest monsterizer. I'm projecting out, not looking in at all our commonalities. Recognizing those same impulses in myself -- whether I'd ever come close to enacting them or not -- lets me roll with reality's cruel punches, and gives me empathy with those I'd be inclined to love least, and hate most.

This is not about false equivalency. This is just about clear-eyed honesty. And humility. And awareness. And forgiveness.

Point being: the closest I've ever come to being a decent human being -- celebrating the beauty and brilliance of our species, and all of creation, from my little stance inside it -- has come from my willingness to accept that I am part of the problem and solution both.

And that the more open I hold my heart, the better chance I have to help us figure this shit out, as workably as possible.

The more love we pour on ourselves and each other, the closer we get to honoring and accepting the truth of ourselves.

If there's an answer anywhere, I suspect that's the thornily gorgeous road ahead.

AUTHOR-TURNED-INDIE-PUBLISHER’S NOTES: If there’s one thing I keep learning, it’s that I never get to stop learning new things! For example:

• Everything takes longer than you think it’s going to!

• Sometimes lucky breaks don’t!

• I’m not always as smart as I think I am!

• For some reason, global trade wars and bombing Iran haven’t helped bring down costs for the average American!

Just some fun facts to keep in mind, as I tell you the following thing…

As of today, the special signed-and-numbered hardcover limited edition of The Change is gonna be a couple days late. I’M SO SORRY! It’s at the manufacturers. It’s been proofed and approved. It looks gorgeous. They are ready to roll.

The only hitch is, I haven’t yet SOLD ENOUGH HARDCOVER COPIES to pay the printer. And though they advertised a means by which I could break up the payments, I evidently didn’t qualify. (I doofily assumed that having done solid business with them over the past year would count. It doesn’t.)

To be clear, there’s no issue vis-a-vis the paperbacks. That money’s covered by sales. They’ll be out on September 11th. (No completely unfunny nonexistent pun intended!)

And, I mean, it’s not like I don’t have wonderful friends who might spot me if they have to (I HOPE!) But before I go annoying my near and dear, I figured I’d go straight to all the people who KNOW they want to read this book, and were planning to buy it. Because NOW WOULD BE THE PERFECT TIME!!!

As it stands, I need 21 MORE HARDCOVER SALES to make my minimum! Or, like, 55 MORE PAPERBACKS! (Or a whole bunch of paid subscriptions, so you can read it here online, cuz that would also help!)

I’ve also still got both paper and hardcover on good ol’ This Is Splatterpunk on hand, already printed and awaiting your love! (Did I mention that This Is Splatterpunk is a love-based organism? JUST LIKE US!)

Whatever the case, here’s where to order all of the above! (Plus a goofy movie tie-in to my feature The Great Divide, also available for sale!)

If I haven’t made those sales by Monday, I’ll be out bugging my long-suffering friends, because there’s NO FUCKING WAY I’m gonna let this slide past that paperback debut date. But I really don’t wanna, unless there’s no other way.

PLEASE SPARE THEM THE INDIGNITY! Buy your copy today!

And THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

Enormous love,

Skipp

AUTHOR-TURNED-PSYCHOLOGICAL-FISHERMAN’S NOTE: I haven’t been wading into my Facebook Memories for awhile, just because I’ve been so busily moving forward, from my place in the perpetual Now.

But this morning, something induced me to click on the link. And in the course of skimming over relics from the past, past, and past, I stumbled upon this little drunken late-night insight that seemed worth reeling in: a little minnow captured nine years ago that still feels lively, at the heart of my concerns.

I feel that the heart of the art of this life lies in finding the best you have to offer this life, and then dedicating yourself to it as best you can.

Self-loathing comes easily to most of us. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to see our hideous flaws, and weigh them against the lighter-than-air potential worthiness we might hope to imagine we contain, and watch the scale helplessly flop to the unworthy side.

And from there, it comes equally easy to ruthlessly judge each other by our own failed standards. It’s a slope that goes down and down and down.

So my personal trick and antidote is this: to focus my gaze on the finest attributes of everybody I meet. To see their souls, at their openest and finest, and try to connect with them there. Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes it’s hard. But believe me, it’s there, in every single one of us.

And if you see it -- and they feel you seeing it -- you can actually connect with that special part of them.

Doesn’t mean you ignore the broken damage, the flaws both obvious and hidden. Doesn’t mean you be a sucker who falls for everyone’s shit. Many many people have personally, ruthlessly distanced themselves so far from their finest souls that they barely recognize them in themselves.

But if YOU can see it, YOU CAN HELP THEM SEE IT, TOO. And if you can meet on that level -- your best and theirs, connecting -- that’s the deepest seeing there is.

These are the eyes of wisdom, insofar as I can tell. These are the eyes you want for everyone.And it starts with you.

SEE YOU THERE, MY FRIEND!!!

For many of you, I only have email addresses. And I’m guessing that you don’t want to see THOSE specially thanked! Plus, my slightly-stunted Substack skills mean that I don’t understand how to negotiate my dashboard nearly as well as a FULLY-developed human might!

So if you would, please drop me a note in the comments below. Or send a private message. Or respond to this email. I need the info by 5:00 pm today, west coast time to be in this first edition printing, okay? (And by the way, today would be a GREAT DAY TO BECOME A PAID SUBSCRIBER, if you haven’t already!)

For anybody who gets left out of this edition, I will leap through hoops of burning fire to make sure you’re thanked in the next edition, or the second book (also serializing here). But I’d love to get it right the first time! LOVE YOU, AND THANK YOU!!!

Yer pal in the trenches,

Skipp

AUTHOR-TURNED-POLLSTER’S NOTES: One of the great things about being an independent art-o-tainer is that you can experiment. Try shit out. Not have to answer to the Powers-That-Be in your artistic decisions.

In the immortal words of Frank Zappa: “Any artistic decision that is based on whether or not you are going to make money is not really an artistic decision.”

That said, Frank was not anti-business. He was not exactly crazy about the people he had to do business with, and had major problems with the rules as presented. But he understood that if he wanted to make music his life, music would have to somehow pay the bills.

And if he wanted to make HIS kind of music – as opposed to the teenage love songs he held in absolute contempt, and which most record labels would fetishistically insist upon – he would have to come up with his own techniques and strategies for getting over.

Which brings us to our poll! Where I welcome your thoughts!

ON THE PLUS SIDE…

Real quick: I decided to write my comeback novel on Substack for the following reasons:

1. I love Substack, and am very excited to be part of a social media portal where people ACTUALLY COME TO READ. And where creators have actual direct contact with readers, in a venue designed for interaction. Where the writer is paid directly by their actual audience, instead of getting a miniscule percentage from publishers who still make you do all the fucking work. Where a writer might actually be able to make a decent living, doing what they love to do.

2. I really enjoy great serialized novels on a time-release formula. (For example, when Josh Malerman wrote Carpenter’s Farm as a Covid experiment, I eagerly awaited every Tuesday and Thursday for another chapter drop, much in the same way that I’d wait all week for the next episode of a show I loved.)

3. Because The Change is extremely timely, it could not bear the standard publishing “Spend a year shopping, and then wait two more years for the book to come out” approach. It is art in response to the now. And it wants to be read, like, NOW.

4. It was an extremely fun challenge to write under such daily/weekly pressure, always staying at least ten chapters ahead of every chapter published. As such, I wrote the book in just under four months, and had a blast every speck of the way.

5. Though it has not yet caught on in a major way, I love the fact that hundreds of readers were able to taste-test it for free, and that my paid subscriber list more than doubled. With plenty of room to grow.

6. Having one-stop shopping for all my fiction, film, music, and personal philosophy is like a dream come true for me. And HANDY-DANDY, TOO! It’s like having a kickass studio in a town square that’s already well-trafficked. Anyone can stop by, any time they want. And I’m always glad when you do!

ON THE MINUS SIDE…

Here are the compelling reasons people have given me for not coming along for the ride:

1. “I don’t like serials, period.” (Can’t argue with that.)

2. “I’d rather wait for the actual book.” (Can’t argue with that, either.)

3. “Substack sucks because _____.” (Could argue all day, but not right now.)

4. “If I’m gonna read it digitally, I’d rather read the ebook.” (Let’s stop right here for a minute.)

As I was actively writing and posting The Change, I couldn’t add a link to the next chapter, cuz the next chapter wasn’t up yet. You could only hyperlink back to the previous chapters.

Now that the book’s done, I’ve officially changed that. You can now move easily from first chapter to next, just as you would in any other ebook.

5. “I can’t read it on my KIndle.” (True, but you can read it on your phone, iPad, laptop, desktop, or any other readable electronic device.)

So those are some of the ups and downs. And I’m DYIN’ to hear your thoughts!

As it stands, my plan is to serialize the second book of The Change here on Substack, as well. Hopefully, the growing audience for the first book will drive interest here. But I might be totally wrong. WHICH IS WHY I’M ASKIN’!

So please feel free to expand upon your take in the comments below, okay? That would be much appreciated, and incredibly useful! THANKS!!!

But one of the last podcast episodes I recorded before vanishing was this one, which I really, really love. It’s an EXTREMELY wide-ranging conversation with a really smart guy I had never met before, but who has spent the last eight years – doing an amaaaaazing job, if I might say – of editing horror cinema’s premiere magazine, Fangoria.

In keeping with this week’s horror controversy de jour, we start out relentlessly pissing on Generative AI. Then we move on through the legacy of the great George Romero, the real-life horror of our current administration (Apocalypse By and For Dummies!), Phil’s origin story, the dangers of insularity for modern horror writers and filmmakers, the value of experiencing art outside genre, some major love for 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, Talk To Me, It Follows, Hitchcock’s Frenzy, Tarantino, the end of the 80’s horror boom, dream logic, the expansiveness of South Korean cinema, my problems with Lucio Fulci’s extremely narrow emotional bandwidth, aging, the calcification and erosion of souls, the glorious pre-Code movies of Mervyn LeRoy, learning to accept that some art wasn’t made for you, and why stomping around and being a dick about it might not be the best idea.

In other words: FUN!!!

I’m gonna apologize for a little thing that starts at around 2:50 minutes in. Some technical confusion around recording leads up to two minutes where my mouth movements don’t sync up with the noise actually coming out of my facehole. YIPES! Fortunately, that shit straightens out around the 5:00 minute mark. And then it’s all hunky-dory.

So ENJOY! I’ll be doing a bunch more over the next several weeks, with a wide variety of fascinating folks ranging from Portland-centric to internationally known. Because whether you’re going local or global (or both!), you never know where the next amazing conversation will come from.

And who your next great friend might be!

PHIL J. NOBILE BIO

Phil Nobile Jr. is a writer and producer, creating non-fiction storytelling for over 30 years in various mediums. He has been Editor-in-Chief of FANGORIA magazine since 2018, and he swears he’s almost got it figured out.

AUTHOR-TURNED-REALLY-LAME-PUBLICIST’S NOTES: You know how it is when you get busy? Like, so busy that important news you think you’d tell everybody right away somehow gets buried under all kinds of OTHER important news?

Well, this is one of those times! WOOPS!!!

So I have a piece of amazing news! While I was putting all of my energy behind my new book, The Change, my debut feature film The Great Divide went and got itself selected by a wonderful local film festival called Portland Under The Stars.

So on Friday, August 14th, they’ll be screening The Great Divide at the 9 pm slot, with a Q&A featuring myself and producer/stars Sarah Brody Webb and Marjorie Marcellus closing out the night! And then on Saturday the 15th, they’ll hand out awards. And our little-movie-that-could is up for four, count ‘em FOUR of ‘em! (Those being Best Feature, Best Director, Best Ensemble Cast, and the coveted “Keeping Portland Weird” Award, about which I could not be more delighted!)

I just think this is a really nice way to celebrate all the hard work and serious fun we put into making an actual feature film, with almost no money, and having it turn out so wholeheartedly beautiful. There is sooooo much life in this film, courtesy of all of the wonderful people involved. (Frankly, making movies with your friends is THE BEST!!!)

The event takes place at the McMenamin’s MIssion Theater in Portland, OR. Full details on the website here.

And once the festival’s done, I’ll make a big announcement about our movie’s imminent streaming future. But first things first! HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!

HI, EVERYBODY! Just lettin’ ya know – in case you didn’t – that there comes a time in every young book’s life when it must decide, “Do I want to see actual print some day? Or do I just wanna laze around in the digital wasteland, never knowing the glory of actual covers and pages of paper, that flip in one’s hands?”

It’s a rite of passage for the brand new novel, trembling alone in the face of all creation. Will it throw itself upon the tender mercies of the Machine? Or will it carve its own way through the publishing wilderness, setting out upon the trail of the new “creator economy”?

Well, in the case of The Change, the book and I have chosen the latter.

So this week, my friends, the challenge is this:

1) to sell at least THIRTY (30) MORE COPIES of the limited edition, signed and numbered hardcover;

2) to sell at least TWENTY-FIVE (25) MORE COPIES of the signed paperback; and/or

3) get at least THIRTY-FIVE (35) MORE PAID YEARLY SUBSCRIBERS to Yer Pal Skipp, or

4) get at least FIVE HUNDRED (500) MORE PAID MONTHLY SUBSCRIBERS.

With just that amount of money, I will have the first 100 copies of the hardcover beautifully printed and shipped. The same with the lovely signed paperback. I’ll also have specially designed bookmarks and buttons (free with each purchase).

And then you’ll know why these wonderful writers are saying these wonderful things:

“A book bellowed from the peak of Skipp Mountain. Totally vibrant, rhythmic, funny, profound. It wouldn’t be Skipp without the enormous, pounding heart at the center of The Change. A book of our times, a modern day call to arms; this is John Skipp on absolute hypnotic fire.”

- Josh Malerman, New York Times bestselling author of Incidents Around the House

“The Change is everything we could have hoped for from a new John Skipp novel: creepy, hilarious, smart, beautiful, wild, and weird AF. Just don’t be surprised if it turns your consciousness into a column of blinding light.”

- Lisa Morton, Bram Stoker Award®-winning author

“The Change is as compassionate as it is violent, as colorful as it is dark, as exciting as it is thoughtful, and as weird as it is direct. The richness of these characters and the intricacies of their intertwined lives give us a world so electrifying that I was enraptured from the very first page. John Skipp has returned to fiction more locked-in than he has ever been. How lucky are we, as readers, to reap these rewards?”

-- Danger Slater, author of Starlet and House of Rot

“After years away from the game, John Skipp returns with The Change, not to reclaim the splatterpunk mantle, but to reignite its righteous fury at the evils thriving in plain sight, and reintroduce the love and joy they’ve been trying to stop us feeling for each other.”

–– Cody Goodfellow, Wonderland Book Award-winning author of Unamerica and Silent Weapons For Quiet Wars

“John Skipp’s The Change is a multi-layered masterpiece, a spot-on allegory about our current predicament as a species. Great art reminds us that we’re not alone, and this epic tale of conscience and faith tackles those feelings of mounting dread in gloriously unflinching, shocking and insightful ways that both excite and inspire. I love it.”

– Lucky McKee, writer/director of May and The Woman

“This is, by far, the most wildly entertaining and paradoxically provoking book about personal transformation. It’s a rare gift when an author can illuminate truth and positivity through characters mired in the depravity of life. If the Buddha loved graphic horror, he might have given The Change the ‘You-Gotta-Be-Kidding-Me-This-Is-So-Fucking-Relevant-And-Revelatory’ Award.”

– Lisa Wimberger, founder and author of Neurosculpting

“With apocalyptic hippie cults, contract killers, and people turning into blazing pillars of light, this feels like everything you could want from a novel by Yer Pal Skipp, but the real treasure here is his skill with character and turn of phrase. I had no idea I have been waiting for years to read this incredible book, but now that I have, it feels like being visited by a beloved (if kind of fucked up) friend, too long away.”

– Bracken MacLeod, three-time Splatterpunk Award finalist and author of Let Not Your Sorrow Die

“John Skipp, the OG splatterpunk bestseller, writes heart-racing, blood-gushing, love-inducing, consciousness-raising stories and The Change is the best of them all.”

– Laura Lee Bahr, author of Who Is The Liar and Haunt

Also: everyone who buys either a book or a paid subscription this week gets YOUR NAME in the “Special Thanks” at the back of the book! So you help me get the book out on time, AND you get special braggin’ rights!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! Can’t wait to get this in your hands!

Enormous love from yer pal in the trenches,

Skipp

There are a trillion ways to look at the world, all of them as valid as the eyeballs used to do so. That said, when terrestrial push comes to philosophical shove, I’m a guy who likes taking the long view on things.

There’s always a ton of immediate shit to attend to, of course; the only thing more important than the last project is the new one, on and on till infinity.

But moving into my eighth decade on Earth, I can’t help admiring the gradual arcs that unfold. The historical context, far older than little old Skipp; and the future, far longer than little old Skipp will hang around to see. At least in THIS incarnation.

Insofar as I can tell, changes come in waves. Long cycles. Vast pendulum swings. The things I love grab their moments in the sun. Then the things I hate snare the upswing, get their shot at the win. To their immense dismay, shit swings back to where I like it. Then away again, to my immense dismay.

And so it goes, forever. Opposites attracting and repelling, forever at war.

After enough of that eternal back-and-forth, I’ve been forced to conclude that neither side can ever win forever. It’s a see-saw. A push-me pull-you. A perpetual motion machine, that keeps itself running by keeping us hoping that we’re ever gonna win.

So thinking in the long term right now, I guess all I want to say is that this, too, shall pass. Tenuous and terrifying or exciting and inspiring as your recent wins or losses might be, you’ll be feeling exactly the opposite in no time.

So do what you gotta do, because you have to. But just know WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS. Horrible things will happen. Wonderful things will happen. Both of them always do.

They don’t call this shit infinity for nothing.

And, amazingly, we are still here.