They'll furlough a million workers to keep from releasing the Epstein files.

Auntie Ruby may be remembered for the Wing Luke Museum. I'll remember Ruby for her Marge Simpson hairdo, her zeal for dancing, making her own outfits & strong support for the LGBTQ community. She also worked at Boeing for 35 years @jamieford.bsky.social iexaminer.org/ruby-luke-pa...

Caught a chest cold and accidentally unplugged from social media. Ten out of ten. Would get ill again.

Beijing, Xi'an, Shanghai, Taipei—basically the world's greatest pub crawl, except the drinks are dumplings, the shots are bubble tea, and the hangover is a suitcase full of memories. And next April, you can come with me and John Shors. We'll even save you a seat on the bullet train.

Bracing myself for next year's high school reunion, where I'll inevitably discover that some of my peers who slam-danced to the Cramps and Dead Kennedys now pledge allegiance to MAGA. From anarchy to HOA enforcers in one generation.

After that guy threw a sandwich at a federal agent, I'm reminded that Paddington Bear kept a marmalade sandwich under his hat for emergencies. Which, honestly, feels like the right level of preparedness for 2025.

Seattle's Panama Hotel, in the news once again—still holding the scent of tea, the echo of quiet rooms, and the weight of what was left behind.

As the great philosophers, Wreckx-N-Effect once said, All I wanna do is zoom-a-zoom-zoom-zoom...

DC gets militarized. Soldiers spend a week perfecting their "standing around" formation. They're pulled before they start griping to the press. Trump declares victory. Meanwhile the 23 women who stood in open court to tell their stories about Epstein and Trump are ignored.

On Jan. 6, Trump let his followers beat cops like piñatas. Now he's sending soldiers to fight the Epstein files. Because nothing says "law and order" like protecting rich men whose dates had to be home by curfew.

Tomorrow I'm taping an interview for About the Authors on Tubi. I'm planning to begin every answer with, "As the prophecy foretold…" and see how far I get.

Had dinner last night with the founder of the Stanford Institute of Stem Cell Biology and Regenerative Medicine. We talked about the idea of a "follower" gene, which might explain MAGAs willingness to be led by a very bad man.

Every time someone tells me to muzzle my opinions and "just write books," all I hear is: "Please entertain me, but don’t inconvenience me with your humanity."

When Trump watches the new South Park he's going to start a war just so he can bring back the draft and send Matt and Trey to the front lines.

So...Trump is in the Epstein docs—the ones he claimed didn't exist, then insisted Obama created, and the GOP conveniently ground Congress to a halt so no one can even vote on releasing. It's like a Scooby-Doo episode, if Scooby was into underage girls and Fred was trying to overturn democracy.

I grew up during the Satanic Panic, when churches were holding bonfires to burn Ozzy records. Now he's gone. Turns out the Prince of Darkness was just a misunderstood poet with a Brummie accent.

It's wild and beautiful watching Andrea Gibson live on in our cultural bloodstream—like a vaccine against hard-heartedness, cruelty, and despair.

A few spots left on next year's China tour! We'll roam ancient cities, decode forbidden love letters in calligraphy, and I'll walk you through a temple while arguing—politely—that Daoism is just quantum physics with better landscaping. 1/2

The way Andrea Gibson handled dying has forever altered the way I handle living. An amazing, beautiful human being that we did not deserve, but needed so badly. Please watch this performance. I’m gonna go continue crying now.

Sitting in for Johnathan Evison on A FRESH FACE IN HELL. Jen is the author of NERVOUS, check out the podcast, and her amazing book.

In case there's any confusion as to what the real agenda is.

Just two weeks ago, Vance Boelter, a gun-worshipping, MAGA-flag-waving evangelical zealot, murdered a Democratic lawmaker and her husband in their home. How quickly we just move on...to the next scene in this horror show.

This week, I'm subbing in for Jonathan Evison on A FRESH FACE IN HELL and chatting with the amazing Jen Soriano. We're talking mental health, colonialism, and resistance music—which we need now more than ever. Buckle up and tune in 🎙️🔥🎧

Join me on next year's tour of China—a few spots left! We'll wander temples older than the English language, learn which dynasty hated pants, and you'll get to hear my completely reasonable theory that, if not for Confucianism, we'd already be traveling to the stars.

Join me on next year's tour of China—a few spots left! We'll wander temples older than the English language, learn which dynasty hated pants, and you'll get to hear my completely reasonable theory that, if not for Confucianism, we'd already be traveling to the stars.

Another interview, another attempt to turn memory into music.

I love Spokane.

Stumbled upon this old photo from when I was at the SILK Festival in Skudeneshavn, a book fair in a tiny fishing village in Norway. All the events were held in pubs. The vibes were epic.

I've spent years reading reviews where critics dissect my work like it's a frog in biology class. Now I get to turn the scalpel around. I'll be gentle. (Probably.)

As long as ICE keeps thinking body armor and an AR-15 are a substitute for ID and a warrant, ordinary citizens are going to keep making their miserable lives as miserable as legally possible.

My sleep pattern looks like I went down after repeated tazerings.

My dad was a complicated guy, equal parts scar tissue and stubborn hope. He saw the best and the worst this country could offer, and spent his life trying to carve out a place where he belonged. He never quite found it, but he left me a map in the shape of his struggles. I’m still following it.

Just got back from our local No Kings protest—massive crowd, horns blaring like we'd won the World Cup of Common Sense. A few drivers flipped us off, screaming with their kids in the car. Nothing says "good parenting" like teaching your 3rd grader to road-rage for a convicted felon.

Real Americans don’t support dictators. That’s literally the one job. If you’re drooling over some orange-tinted strongman or boot-licking a billionaire tyrant, you might wanna sit out the next Fourth of July.

Back from France. Jetlagged, disoriented, and 23% croissant.

Being an American in France right now is like telling people your country invented jazz, then watching Trump and Musk slap-fight on pay-per-view in a Waffle House parking lot.

Twenty-five years ago, this sparked outrage. Now it happens every day and a third of the country either applauds or couldn't care less. Even Rudy Giuliani called them "storm troopers" back then. Now he's cheering them on. That's not progress. That's rot.

Just popped over to Twitter. Still a stew of toxic sludge, bots boosting lies, and Joe Rogan earnestly saying, "What Elon told me…" like it’s scripture. I stayed five minutes and aged ten years.

"Roughly 1,500 babies have been born HIV-positive every day since January 21, because Musk cut off their mothers’ medication." prospect.org/power/2025-0...

I'm heading to France on Sunday and thinking about staying up until 3am the next few nights and sleeping till 10am to pre-adjust to Chamonix time. Is it a workable idea? Or is it jet-lag cosplay? Am I just LARPing as my future exhausted self, minus the croissant crumbs?

Target ditched DEI, tanked hard, then doubled down because nothing says "great strategy" like lighting your reputation on fire twice.

It's hard to explain the mental health toll of life on the road, but this post nails it. It also applies to authors who've done the "Road Warrior" thing—like me. Or at least, like I used to. These days, I'm traveling less.

Trump's big dumb bill offers a 100% expensing deduction for new factories—so I've officially rebranded my office as a word factory. Output includes metaphors, sarcasm, and the occasional bestselling novel.

Did an event with the amazing Shelby Van Pelt. I was there for moral support, crowd control, and octopus appreciation. Basically, I’m an emotional support author. Batteries not included, sarcasm sold separately.

Tomorrow I'm going to Seattle for one book event. Just one. I promised myself I'd take it easy. So far I've also booked 2 school visits, a coffee, a lunch, a board meeting, and am seeing 4 bands at El Corazon. At this rate I'll be running a marathon and officiating a wedding by Thursday.

In the 80s, apartheid South Africa tried to lure America's racist Southerners. Now the U.S. is returning the favor, fast-tracking racist South Africans.

Doing a book event with Shelby Van Pelt for the paperback launch of Remarkably Bright Creatures, a book so beloved it basically sells itself. I’m just here for moral support. And maybe to hold her octopus-shaped purse 🐙

People assume I spend hours in archives when writing historical fiction. Actually, I just use a time machine. Sure, the occasional dinosaur or plague rat gets in the way, but that’s the price of authenticity.

Hosting book club tonight. We’re discussing Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie. A masterpiece, a labyrinth, a test of friendship and reading stamina. Beer will flow. Opinions will differ. Snacks will save us.

Feeding Ghosts was my favorite nonfiction book of 2024 (even though I read an advance copy in Dec 2023). I raved so much about it people probably thought I’d joined a cult. Totally worth it. It’s that good.