The one where I don’t thoroughly fuck up

Hello people of Earth – I have returned.

Surely you’ve come to expect me now (what with me doing this every week and everything) but to the new comers I say “Hello you wonderful people, welcome to this weird collection of therapy sessions, behind the scenes editions and incessant ranting about various topics of now importance what-so-fucking-ever to your daily life . . .  also known as my brain”

To the people who regularly read this site, (and I know you’re there cos you send me tweets, facebook messages and comments here, often involving various topics of a tentacled nature) I say to you “welcome back, Acolytes”

Seriously though: I gotta stop this whole tentacle thing before some blogging fucker decides to ruin my career by putting a video of me sucking a Hentai porn tentacle in various poses whilst “I’m blue” or “Hit me Baby one more time” plays in the back. (Just please no Skrillex – well maybe “Bangarang”)

It’s a weird moment when you realize that you’re practically handing your innermost secrets to random people on a blog.

(So you’re just a whore, Ryan?)

Shut up.

(Seriously, do people read this? Are there still people here, trying to read this thinly veiled semi-Schizophrenic attempt to justify your decision to tell everyone to go fuck themselves whilst you shut in, listen to strange music and write stories about wizards who cant get laid and their talking pets?)

Hang on – sorting out issues.

– gets bat –

(Ow! Fuck! Hey calm – fuck!!)

OK we can go on now.

(Just wait till you fall asleep. Then I’ll make you dream about that thing again. You know – where the thing happens with the girl and the guy and the world dies and the cat is king and I make you my bitch? that one)

Moving on.

Many of you may wonder what I’m up to now that Hibernation period has started – and my answer would be a very lazy “Not much”

this is true.

I have handed in Legacy book 2 to my manager and have failed to hear from him. I hope that this is due to the book being 99,000 words long and not to the fact that aliens have abducted him. It is a distinct possibility though and they are posting pictures of him surrounded by family just as a decoy whilst they poke, prod and otherwise stuff him like a turkey.

(Do you guys have turkey on Christmas? We had lamb – cos you know, Jesus. Warning: you will not get the joke unless you have a deep understanding of Catholicism and a very dark sense of humor coupled with an utter disbelief in any religious establishment )

this is the shit I think about whist you guys are at work!

that aside, I have halted pretty much everything.

The serialized fiction series came to a chopping stop because of editing Legacy book 2, but I wanna pick up the pieces soon.

Pandora Chronicles book 1 is finished, but it needs to go through a heavy edit before I even think of sending it to anyone. I respect my manager way too much to send him a book that mangled.

(Funny how I won’t make him read an unedited book and yet, I have no problem with having him abducted by aliens)

Fun fact: If you have the paperback edition of Firstborn (check out my Legacy tab to get it) You’ll notice a sword handle with the number 1 at the very bottom of the spine. That’s the Legacy logo we plan to put on every book with the number of the book in the circle. Neat huh?

My manager came up with that and he designed it himself !!!

So what else? I have two assignments left to turn in before I graduate from an online course I’m in, and a start the other one concerning script writing. But the college is closed so there’s no point in me turning them in.

Besides, I’ve decided that until the New Year, I’ll spend my days doing exactly Fuck Nothing.

That means – read books, play Dungeons and Dragons online, chat on Facebook with people who I can actually tolerate and may actually like for a change, watch anime, read blog posts, and of course your reviews.

And i say this knowing it’s a bit of a lie.


I am horribly addicted to my work. When I say, take a week off, the best I can manage is 4 days. After than I start writing down ideas

– which become part of an existing storyline

– which then becomes a book outline

– which then becomes a chapter, then another, then another

– which then becomes a book

Which is really OK. I have a great job which is very tiring and at times, for various reasons, frustrating.

But then one of you guys says something to me, or comments, or tweets something, and then I realize that my job is one of the most rewarding careers out there.

So in a way, you guys are funding my habit. Which is really cool.

(See? you though I was gonna bring down the repressed anger into a touching, sensitive moment – and then I fucked you by likening you to drug dealers)

there are no winners.

Only insane people and those who read their work.

Peace out

A Holiday Greeting . . . Of Sorts

OK. Christmas, holiday, greeting, thingy – whatever you believe in.

It doesn’t matter. At this stage we got bigger things to worry about. Like getting through holidays without going insane. Which as Christmas gets closer, is getting way too fucking hard.

First off (Yeah this is gonna be a rant, fuck it), what’s with the going out? Right now I’m arguing with a friend who wants to drag me out. Like seriously?

I avoid going out during the rest of the year because I can’t tolerate people – why the hell would I go out NOW?

Every cocksucker around the block is gonna be hanging around – do you want my internal mass murdered to poke his head out?

(S’up bitches)

Shocker number 2: I don’t drink. Nothing at all.

(seriously, if you’ve seen me at the launch party, you know I should add lubrication of any sort – wow that was a great pun. I deserve points for that one.)

And another thing –

this won’t shock nobody, but I’m single. I don’t wanna see you, or your girl, nor the eleven million couples dry humping in front of me.

I got me some tentacle porn and my fellow acolytes – I’m set, thank you.


So I figure, let’s be done with all the bullshit.

(Wow did I fuck up this holiday greeting. Were you really expecting a “Merry Xmas guys”, from me?)

You don’t have to spend time with those you don’t want to. No, You don’t have to go see your family, or your partner’s annoying cousin that lives in another state. And no, if someone is being a bitch, you don’t get them a gift hoping they might change. They’re just gonna be a slightly richer bitch.

So remember this when you’re sneaking vodka in between bites next time you’re at the dinner table and you’re girlfriend’s dad is getting on your dick.

Just remind him that you love this accidental product that he made when his condom broke and that you’re avoiding his dumbass mistake by deepthroating his daughter.

And then just watch.

(Best of all, I may have just ruined eggnog for everyone. . . hehe, woops)

Point is, Christmas is a time to spend with people you love. And for once a year, just once – just let go of all the bullshit. Xmas 2013 isn’t coming ever again. For some of you this could be the last Christmas as a couple, maybe the last one before you have kids. Perhaps coming January you start a different chapter of your life, be it be your own volition or not.

Don’t waste time, period.


So out of respect for all y’all, I’m not gonna tell you that I have Firstborn and Dread Night online, waiting for you to buy them.

( Although I have received my copy of Firstborn and it is one sexy mofo)

I will however politely remind you that I still intend to use your reviews for my first blog post of 2014. So go and post them.

I will also happily share with you that I just handed in Legacy Book 2 today (Tentatively called Memories, but it may change – hence the ‘tentatively’). I have three separate bodies of work I wanna get out next year, so I suggest you brace yourself for the Ryan goodness.

I’m gonna end on this: each and every one of my fans has my thanks. Thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author. Thank you for your feedback. Thank you for participating.

My job is to create a world – yours is to populate it.


Peace out, happy holidays and know that you rule all there is to be rules, my acolytes.

Puppies and Gay Irish Batman

Once again, it’s Friday (no relation to the song) and it’s time for my weekly blog post. So let’s get this thing rolling.

First up, a big congratz to Shannon Thompson for graduating. It’s a huge deal in someone’s life. I don’t know about you guys but college (or as we call them here, Universities – smell that posh people) wasn’t exactly the party it’s panned out to be. In my country it’s somewhat more lethargic, given that we have no dorms, no frats or sororities and indefinitely no girls flashing their breasts as guys shoot amateur porn. I guess all we do is show up to the lecture, nod as the lecturer spews out something or another and then fuck off. Interestingly enough I spent most of my lecture time (because I had already read all the material beforehand and knew what I had to know) writing the Star Wars fanfiction which you can find on my page.

(You couldn’t resist plugging yourself there could you?)

Shut up.

I do have a funny story about the graduation ceremony though. First off, the toga. What the fuck is that thing? I had to wear a green cowl (they call it a sash cos apparently no one owns a freakin’ dictionary!) that I could have worn as a belt. So essentially I looked like Gay Irish Batman.

The Drunk Knight.

And what’s the deal with the hat? Hasn’t anyone realized – YOU ARE WEARING A SQUARE ON YOUR HEAD. How is that a symbol of intellect? You think the Romans are looking down from the Field of Elysium going ‘Hey, Cesar, check out these fucking morons. I can’t believe they bought our joke.’

It’s the same thing with the 2012 Mayan prophecy – they ran out of ink, chisel and stone you guys. Relax!!

But anyway –

I put on the Gay Irish Batman costume (square sold separately) and stand in line. I should point out that I was running a bit of a cold that day, so had to constantly sniff on a tissue, which really just made me look as if I was snorting cocaine.

When they call out my name, I walk over casually because . . . Well, I’ve been through the querying part of publishing and have over seventy rejection letters. An asshole in a dress isn’t really going to impress me.

I should note that everyone was nervous as fuck (or a virgin fuck if I were to create a mental picture) and both the Rector and the 2 Chancellors were having a little chat with each grandaunt so that they won’t look like zombie bumblebees when the picture gets taken.

So I walk over casually, shake the Rector’s hand and he asks “Are you going to pursue any further studies?” which translates to “Are you going to give me more money?”

So as flatly as I can I say, “No!” and walk over to the Chancellor.

Chancellor: “Ryan, you seemed really flustered by the Rector’s question.”

Me: “Not really flustered. I just am not going to pursue any further studies, at least not for the time being.”

Chancellor (Chancy): “May I ask what do you do for a living?”

Me: “I am a professional and published author.”

*** At this point the Rector does a double take into our conversation, that would have made John Cleese very proud. The audience is now questioning WTF is going on with the short dude who looks like Gay Irish Batman ***

Chancy: “Wow that’s so amazing. Congratulations. I publish books too.”

Me:  “Yes. You publish law books.”

Chancy: “Not many people read them. Only law students.”

Me: “Unless they drop out.”

Then I fuck off in the smoothest bow-out in history.

So the moral of the story is – Ah, who am I kidding. there is no moral here. I was just laughing maniacally as I sprinkled salt on a wound I had cut open in him.

So, Shannon, good luck.


For those of you following me on Facebook and Twitter ( and really you should because my bullshit is better than your bullshit. and way less frequent), then you know that I had my very own release party last night.

Now, it was cool, although I was sad to see some people leave due to sickness or other occupational hazards. Whoever the sick girl was I do hope you feel better. I was also told by someone that they love me – and until I see a chocolate cake on my front porch, I don’t believe you. Speaking of front porches, I pissed off author Amber Skye Forbes last night with this song ( and apparently her fiance wanted to drive a nail spike through his head and she wanted to retaliate by sending a dead puppy to my front door.

Or I may have misread it and really she’s gonna dress up as a dead puppy and lie on my front porch as her fiance nails her (wow that gives new meaning to doggystyle). Whatever. Who am I to judge how one gets inspired?

Here’s the thing about these parties guys – I have a +6 hour time difference. You were all there at 7. Which means I was awake at 2 am. I had to chug 2 red bull cans to stay awake, and today I woke up in what can only be described as a hangover meets walk of shame hybrid situation.

It was like I had the wildest frat party in history but it only happened in my fucking head.

Point is, I do remember the highlights but there is no way I’m gonna call up the finer details. I was far from lucid. Oh, and my manager facebooked (yeah that’s a thing now) with “we like you when you’re silly” which really means “dance monkey, dance.”

But jokes apart, I really meant it when I felt humbled. It’s great to meet you guys in person without actually seeing and smelling you- and I do look forwards to chatting with you in the comments section below.

Congrats to the winners – I read some of the prizes (the books anyway) and the ones I read are really good. Great selection Ky.

And I do uphold my promises – so make sure to leave a review for a chance to have it quoted on this blog and for me to say how cool you are. I wanna start the new year with some positive, and nothing makes me more positive than to witness the readers enjoying my books.

(Make of that last sentence what you will. Only the pervs will get that.)

Till next time


It’s ALIVE!!!!!

All right boys and girls. We got a few things to cover today, so let’s get crackin’.

First off – Launch party, yesterday. It was a blast – authors spilling behind the scenes info, a bunch of cool prizes (mostly books and a Freakin’ Paperwhite Kindle) and a healthy dose of tentacle porn humor from an author whose name shall only be spoken in hushed tones in the dead of night.

Sincerely though, I cannot thank you enough for the laughter, the support and the smiles. I feel like I’ve made dozens of new friends and this kind of energy is exactly what inspires me to write better for all you guys. All I can do is promise you better, cooler stories for your enjoyment. Last night was humbling to someone like me who started off with nothing but a crazy idea, to see such a response and so much enthusiasm. Thank you so much.

Today is the day my career with AEC Stellar is born in many ways. It’s been a transcending week. I actually had my university graduation last Tuesday where I put on a black toga that completely enveloped me (I’m small, you guys) and wore the square hat. Who the hell decided that we should symbolize intellect by putting fucking squares on our heads? Is this some Roman practical joke?

But my point is, that chapter of my life is over and today (yesterday actually) it’s the start of an author’s career.

To this point I would like to direct you here:

Firstborn is up and running, ready to be caressed by your fingers as you soak in the story with all it’s funny lines, pulse pounding action and sometimes over-the-top situations. This book signifies the past 3 years of my life, and nothing would make me happier than to have you read it and enjoy it. (Maybe leave a review?)

If you haven’t already, check out my Facebook page, stalk me on @enkousama and leave comments on this blog. I love interacting with you people – any artist should value that part of the job.

Also AEC Stellar was kind enough to organize a launch party for me. Attend here. I promise you even more late night Red Bull- enhanced fun with all the music, dirty jokes and insider secrets you desire.


Till next time guys,


Party, Prizes and Personalities

This is just a not-so-quick word about AEC Stellar’s Ebook Extravaganza happening tomorrow on Facebook at this location:

The time is 6-9 PM CDT. (For me who’s on European time that translates to ‘very fucking late’).

What’s an Ebook Extravaganza I hear you ask?

This is an online party where guests such as yourselves are free to join in on the various activities and such, all with prizes to win.

I am told that one of the prizes is a KINDLE PAPERWHITE. Aren’t we just awesome?

Of course there will be giveways of books, some of the books will be cheaper than usual and anything else the authors will think of.

I myself, will be planning something special. If I am allowed to, I will be asking a question (this one I’ve thought long and hard about) and those who get the right answer will be featured in books 2 or 3 of the Legacy Series. You won’t be a main character or a sidekick or anything important, but we do have a shortage of innocent bystanders to maim and kill and YOU could be the lucky one.

So if you want to die somewhere in the Legacy Series, visit this link and join the fun.

(It occurs to me that the promise of certain death is not how one attracts people to a party, but what the fuck do I know? I’m a shut-in)

And finally, the piece de resistance (that’s french for ‘awesome crap’):

This live party will have LIVE INTERVIEWS.

Yes, you heard (isn’t it read me in this case) me. LIVE INTERVIEWS.

That means that you guys get to see me make a complete fool of myself, live for your entertainment.

(I believe it was Sorin who told me that we’re in the ‘whoring’ phase of our careers – well, time to suit up and get that lubricant, I suppose. . . . . For those of you who can’t get that image out of their heads, bear in mind that a bunch of us authors just had a conversation about tentacle porn earlier this week.)

The schedule of live interviews, and a much better blog about this event by a much prettier person than myself, can be found on Shannon’s blog.


So to sum up – we got giveways, prizes (KINDLE FREAKIN PAPERWHITE), live interviews, us authors answering all questions and providing info, and some of you will be mentioned in Legacy.

Hope to see you guys there, cos I’m psyched to meet y’all (these Americans are influencing me)


Feels and Outsiders

Just to start out, and consider this a warning – the weekend was great, the week; fuck me sideways.

I’m hopped up on anti-flu meds and have had a tide of feelings which I will go into this post. This is not a happy post; you will find no smile nor giggle here, much less anything resembling a joke.

And the reason is simple. For the past few years I had a theory – at the core of every joke is a sad miserable moment. And the funnier the joke, the more miserable it’s origin. One day this experience would make a joke that will rival one of Robin William’s creations – but not today. Today it’s the raw catharsis of trying to figure out just what is wrong with me.

Back in 2011, just when I started writing I made a vow to myself that I would sacrifice everything to devote all of my energy into one purpose – writing. As such I rejected party invitations, dates, anything that could distract me from my sole purpose. Back then it was so simple, and I suppose very little has changed now. I look out side the window and all I see are solved puzzles and boring shit. there is absolutely nothing that interests me in this country, with these people. But in the end the English saying is true: no man is an island.

the best I got was a peninsula.

I do have friends, albeit few in numbers. very few. I find that the ones who stick with you through shit are the ones that matter most.

And herein lies my conundrum: you’ve heard people say that they feel lonely in a room full of people. My case is somewhat similar. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m a male, and we can’t get a fucking clue, or perhaps because I opened the doors on perception to my creative mind, wondering the vast cosmos with my brain waves: the point is that because I see things differently than others, I find it hard to connect with them. And they can smell it. the questions then ensue: “You OK?” and what the fuck are you gonna reply:

“Sorry. I zoned out during the last five minutes of whatever crap you were saying because I was too busy figuring out why your lip curls the way it does whenever you speak her name or why your pupils dilate at certain times when you face my direction? Is it because I’m somewhat indirectly responsible for the thing she did to you which you’re bitching about? Is it the way the bellboy looked at you that you associated with something unpleasant? Do you maybe wanna fuck him? Oh wow, good for you. That will do swell for an emotional rebound, which is exactly what you need, because quite frankly, I have not idea what to tell you or how to console you. Or perhaps that look is of disappointment – maybe it’s something I said and you have taken heart to, perhaps you were throwing yourself at me and I blatantly dismissed it as ‘liberal’ action? Or maybe you’re trying to tell me something, some sort of subtext which you wish me to decode but is too painful for you to speak out in plain fucking English?”

Now imagine that little rundown for every word you tell me and every gesture you make. Imagine if we are a group of ten and each member has 9 different reactions to the other. that’s at least 81 different possibilities in my head. Also, try doing this over Facebook chat and then tell if you start bleeding from your eyes and nose.

This is why I don’t go out. this is why I refuse to leave the house or go anywhere that’s too far from my street. this is why I refuse to look at you and instead tap away at my phone. It’s not a question of loneliness or being insecure – it just too overwhelming.

I don’t know what this is but it feels like crap. This ain’t like Sherlock Holmes, where your mind is focused on just the rational facts. I am still attuned to emotions and can still feel them, just like any other person. Emotions and humanity are linked in a symbiotic way after all. For me, it’s like that feeling of knowing that you’re sinking deeper and deeper, and yet everything you try, every branch you try to grab turns out the be either dead or a live snake (Indiana Jones reference). So when I say something and deep down I know it’s no good, and when you look at me like that, I know something is wrong. I just can’t compute a solution or a cause for that matter.

And this bdw is just your normal everyday friends meet up to go grab a beer type of situation. There is very little emotional bond here unless I’m missing quite a lot. Don’t get me wrong – I’d take a bullet for my friends. I’m just not gonna tolerate any crying afterwards. So here’s a nice scenario to picture: I’ve been single for a couple of years now and unlike some people I hang out with, I’m perfectly comfortable in isolation. So imagine if you will, if some young lady were to come over and speak to me, or maybe even ask me out?

How insane would that be? Can you imagine just how my rotations the typhoon inside my brain would do? I’m pretty sure there will be portions of my frontal cortex which would fold over themselves like a house of cards and my temporal lobe would just implode (hey that rhymed). First off, even if I could get around someone begin attracted to me (highly unlikely), what kind of a person would torture themselves into listening to me for more than 10 seconds before running away screaming? It would seem clear to me by now that the brain-trust that created this blog, as well as my Professional work (click on the ‘Legacy Series’ tab on this site) has no business interacting with the rest of society.

Perhaps it’s my destiny you know? To end at tortured soul (maybe Oscar Wilde), to become one of those people who tell really good stories and really funny jokes but when they look deep enough in the corners of their mind, there is a small child sitting in the corner crying for a hug.

by the way, all of this crap that I just said – It’s all in my head. By no means does it apply to anything or anyone. I could emerge a week from now, be all smiles and sunshine, typing away at how awesome life is and how I feel loved and amazing. Perhaps this is all true and I haven’t seen it yet. What am I, smart?

Oh and for those of you who read this and thought ‘he’s doing all of this for publicity’ – go fuck yourselves you cunts.

Actually no, you are not cunts. You clearly have neither the depth nor capacity to please.

I doubt anyone in my publishing house will read this (maybe a few) and I’m not even sure my manager even follows my blog. This is a diary for me, where I get to spew out whatever’s in my mind so that when it comes down to business, I do a good fucking job.

Moral of the story: a blog post is cheaper than therapy.

Now, I have rambled on and on about this and I think it’s time for me to leave. However I would like to end this with a poem I wrote. A good friend of mine got me into poetry when I was sixteen and I was shit at it. I still am but I had this one checked by the talented Shannon Thompson who kindly reviewed it. Her response took me completely by surprise when she said it was OK, rather than “Burn it. Burn it now!!”

So here it is. Judge me; fucking judge me.



The feeling of lost

But in a crowd

The cry of despair

But no aloud

A shout of elation

That’s a bout

Looking North

When all is South


And being alone

That’s not the start

You’re just laughing

Your words are smart

There’s a hollowness

You cannot hide

They slowly move

From your side

The time is crucial

To confess

Are you just tired

Or are you a mess

Your answer’s strong

The voice is true

‘No, it’s all fine

And how are you?’


The moment’s passed

It’s now sublime

Lost in your head

In space and time

But you’re not alone

You never are

The distant echoes

Are never far


I turn to them

For some mending

The voices, I know

They’re listening