Author Rich Partain's Historic First Blog

I would like to say I agonized over what I was going to write here, but the truth is ... I didn't. I briefly thought about writing an opinion piece on how fucking disappointed and angry I am at Neil Gaiman for being a horrible person and for taking away all my cherished memories of his wonderful books in one fell swoop. Or two articles. I also thought about writing a diatribe over how annoyed I am that corporate America and the tech bros keep pushing AI on everyone and stomping all over us creatives. But then I was like ... nah. Imma keep it real. (And real quick. Hopefully?) I have fucking fought with this website for weeks now. EVERY place you look on the web for ways to promote your self-published books always has a list, and the number one thing on every list is "having your own website." And almost every one of them recommend naming it after yourself for simplicity's sake. And keeping it memorable. And individual. So here we are. I used to design websites for a living back in the day, but I haven't kept my skills current in that arena. SO I decided to use a hosting service that made the process pretty simple and fast. Without having stupid AI make all my design choices. Unfortunately, I chose poorly, and the infuriating web technology and design program I attempted first had me fighting for days to find out how and where to change the color of the text in a block quote. And the color of a simple background in another block. Until finally, I threw my hands up, cancelled the other service and created a Wix account. Now, I am not going to turn this blog post into an advertisement, but I will say that I almost had the entire site up and running within two hours. Another hour-and-a-half or so, and I am minutes from being operational. And I never completed a single page on the other service, which I will not name here. But, seriously. Fuck those guys. Right in the ear. With a stolen robot dick. Sans lube.

Which reminds me. If you came here expecting a nice, professional, civilized and demure author ... well, you obviously don't know me in real life or haven't read the books yet. The rest of you pretty much knew what you were in for, I think. One of my book club friends said at a party recently "You know, I never have to ask myself 'What does Rich think about that?' or whether or not you're on the fence." I suppose I don't sugarcoat much, and I certainly have my opinions. I try not to be a dick about them, though. I chose the site template I did because of several reasons ... one, the wheat reminded me of the sea of reeds in Volume Two, which I took as a sign. And two, it struck me as ironically funny because it looks like the site of someone who's ... ahem ... not yours truly. A more calm, reserved presence. Who maybe writes books that DON'T have "ass" in the title. That don't contain liberal sprinklings of profanity, innuendo and 'your mom' jokes. Or a foul-mouthed prankster half-alien Jesus.

Nine times out of ten, I do what I do to make you laugh. I think laughter is so very underrated. I want my books to take your mind off your troubles and provide a little escape <The Pina Colada Song starts playing in the background> ... and make you feel like you did when you were a kid, reading an adventure story or watching a film where good guys with good hearts take on evil and triumph. Spoiler alert ... this isn't grimdark, although some grim things happen. You can't have light without some darkness. I am not interested in writing about shitty, irredeemable people doing shitty, irredeemable things to each other. I started doing this during Covid, and I felt then as I do now ... the world needs more heroes. People who are going to strive to do the right thing no matter the cost. Who may be rough around the edges and curse a lot, but who have each other's backs ALWAYS. Who love each other unreservedly and passionately. And aren't ashamed to say it or show it. And who kick lots of fucking ass. Asses that are in desperate need of kicking.

I'm probably not the greatest stylist out here. I'm no Raymond Chandler. I'm not going to bury you in complex subplots or chart my narrative on a graph to ensure the reader is experiencing a textbook ... whatever the fuck. I consider myself a storyteller. And I aim to write some ripping yarns. Like folks used to when there were still mysteries in this world and lost cities waiting to be discovered. (Although with 100% less misogyny and racism.) I want you to get sucked in (heh) and lose yourself in the ridiculous world I have created and fall in love with these characters I love so much and want to spend more time with them. Some of them are based on people I know or have known. Some I met only in passing. Some are amalgams of people from my life or idealized versions, because we artists have to take license. I namedrop tons of cool shit that I love from bands to movies to actors to songs and video games. I created this world so I could sort of write in ALL the genres I love ... fantasy, sci-fi, action-adventure, horror, detective noir, etc. And, well, I think it works. Lots of folks who have read the novels seem to think so. So I will continue doing this for as long as I am able. To try in my own way to bring some joy and light and laughter into this too-often dark world.

I hope you like the books. Hell, I hope you LOVE them. And I hope they make your days and nights a little better. If life is handing you an old-fashioned ass-whooping, I hope they help you get through it. I hope that you might learn something from these silly tales. Like, you know, if that wisecracking dumbass Daniel Davidson can take a punch from a monstrous creature and get back up and grin through bloody teeth and spit and jump back into the fray while insulting the creature's lineage and the marital status and sexual proclivities of its parents, maybe I can get back up, too. And spit in the eye of the universe that wants to keep me down. Maybe I, too, can get though this shit. And keep fighting the good fight. Maybe I can try to love with my whole heart like Helly or Ariana. Maybe I can be as kind and curious as Bishop. Maybe I can be as loyal as Johnny Boy or Carlos. It may be naïve, it may be simple. I don't know. I do know that writing these books makes me laugh, and it fills me with a joy and a sense of purpose and a sense of doing EXACTLY what I was meant to do that is very rare to find as an adult. If even a fraction of that comes through and touches you in some way (with your consent, of course) and improves your outlook, even for a short time, I will feel I have done something special. So. That's enough for one night. I told myself I would keep it brief. And some leftover chicken ramen from Miso Happy is calling my name. Hope you enjoy the site. And the books. Now get out there and buy some extra copies for friends. Or for enemies. I don't give a fuck. This incredibly convoluted and difficult retirement plan ain't getting it without your help. -R

"Ok, so score one for the white devils. I was prepared to hate this place, but the drinks and the music are all on point, and this soy-sake sauce is fucking LIT." - Ariana Silverblade, forensic accountant, sometime dance instructor, full-time Kensei sword saint, and part-time mercenary