I’ve been asking myself: Am I really putting my best on Patreon every week? I mean, I should be, right? Every story ready to post should be the absolute shiniest, most polished, most magnificent narrative I’ve ever concocted, capable of making the angels weep and the deserts bloom, a tour-de-force of heart-wrenching drama.

Which is kind of silly, because if I were to do that, you’d be reading my stories in perpetual descending order of quality, from the treasure to the trash. Give it a few years and you’d be saying, “Man, this guy used to make the deserts bloom and the angels weep; what happened?”

I can promise you that every week contains my favorite story of that week. Select a story that’s the right length and spend a little time with it getting it ready for the spotlight, and I always find the parts that make it shine. Posting it is like being a proud papa sending a fledgling off to Kindergarten. This week’s favorite is “The Long Black Ride,” and I can promise you, hand to heart, that it is ready.

I have a soft spot for stories that can be engaging without having overweening life-or-death stakes. A famous writer once gave me hell at an event for awkwardly asking if every story had to start with a bang, but as I get older, my stories are more and more about lazy, indolent werewolves hanging out in the woods trying to avoid excitement.

Werewolves show up a lot in my fiction, and you’ll see plenty of them if you stick around. But I have no patience for the horror movie cliche of the mindless slasher, so my werewolf stories are mostly about the gentle friction between affable monsters and suspicious humans. In “To Market,” a hungry werewolf pack sends one of its own to steal food from a new rural supermarket.