Butcherback Argosy
It's a barren feeling to write, and 'publish' and not have it go out to my kin for whom I write, or 'kith', as I suppose you are: you, you Phile, reading this.
I know you wouldn't abandon me, but I made an attempt to abandon you, and it's fine, I'm fine out here in the cold world, muddling along, alone as ever, getting shit done, I'm fine, I'm fine, and naturally still writing, and getting away from the X-Files in content, bleak and lame as that sounds.
But one thing I often like to do with writing is take the energy of disparate things and rub them together. In this way I still play along the edges of XF. And to this end, I wrote an XF-adjacent novella called 'Butcherback Argosy'. It's set in 1975. I wrote it, I realize now, for you, but also for the world. It bestrides two worlds. Many of you, whether parents or not, will recognize in it the various things we all endure as artists or as the cultish obsessionists we definitely all are. To that end it is certainly another of my mash notes to the fandom I will love all my days.












