contact us

Use the form on the right to contact us.

You can edit the text in this area, and change where the contact form on the right submits to, by entering edit mode using the modes on the bottom right.


123 Street Avenue, City Town, 99999

(123) 555-6789


You can set your address, phone number, email and site description in the settings tab.
Link to read me page with more information.


Author of the Saga of Ukumog discusses the challenges of being an author, the tools and processes he uses while writing, and sometimes posts something completely unrelated. This blog is the author exposed.

Filtering by Tag: Random Babble

Wrack's birthday

Louis Puster

In 2005 I started writing something. That something was a simple few pages for something else, but it left me with a question. A hole into a world that was not the original world that I was writing about. I blew off the curiosity that I had for that other place, those other characters. I tried to ignore it. That didn't go as I had planned.

Read More

Musing on the rain.

Louis Puster

It is raining in Atlanta right now.  I am sitting in my bedroom, listening to the rain.  It is late enough, and I have to get up early, so I should be trying to fall asleep.  The rain makes that journey easy.  Something about the sound and the change in the air makes me feel more comfortable, relaxed, and at peace.

Trains too have this magical essence to them.  Something about the rumble in the earth and the sound they make.  Somehow these tactile experiences ignite my creativity and set my brain ablaze with ideas and dreams.  The trick is getting them down before I drift away to sleep.

Many years ago, on my eleventh birthday something very odd happened.  And sometimes on nostalgic nights like this the memory floods back into my thoughts.  It was August in upstate New York.  The day was hot, but pleasant.  I had five or six friends over at our house for the party.  We had just spent the better part of an hour pretending to be soldiers, knights, and all other manner of things boys pretend to be and we had come inside to do the birthday ritual of songs, cake, presents.  My mother lit all the candles and as soon as she walked into the room, everyone started singing.  I remember the moment of joy in seeing all these faces so happy just to be there and to celebrate the fact that we had all found one another. Then the song stopped, and just as it did the heavens opened.

My parent's house had a huge window in the living room.  From where we were, we could plainly see all the precipitation that was falling into the front yard.  For thirteen seconds the world was pounded by this falling surprise.  The timing of the event struck me.  It had been so clear that day.  How could it rain so quickly, and then stop so suddenly?

My friend Aaron ran out into the front yard to discover that his suspicion was correct.  It wasn't rain that had fallen - it was hail.  Huge dime-sized chunks of ice covered the yard, and due to the heat of the summer, they instantly started to melt.

This moment brought a little magic into my world.  Unexpected things, simple things, shared things - those are magical.  It is experiences that make life the exciting thing that it is, and the rumble of trains and the roar of rain are both heralds to those moments.  Or at least they are to me.

What sounds ignite your imagination?

Busy weekend

Louis Puster

Hi everyone! 

This past weekend was a little busy.  I updated the layouts in both of my current books, published them to both the Kindle Store, and the regular publisher.  I also made the eBook available through Google's Play store (Wracked & Desecrated).

This weekend I also worked out the details to allow my attendance at ChattaCon 2014 in Chattanooga TN.  I will be spending most of my time behind a table in their dealer's room, so please stop by and say hello.

All in all, a good weekend (which reached into Monday). 


The Night

Louis Puster

I am in love with the night.  

Driving down the highway at night with my windows down is intoxicating.  The air is like a familiar lover who caresses my hair and occasionally slips one hand into my shirt to touch the middle of my chest.  The light of the moon casts such wonderful shadows, making everything appear dreamlike.  The sky itself becomes a host of hidden possibility, lurking just out of reach.  The quiet of the night is comforting and soothing.  Sometimes, the buzz inside my daytime mind hushes its cares for a moment.  The night is beautiful, euphoric, and breathtaking.  In the rush of night-wind inside my car, I can scream, shout, and sing all the while in love with the silvery moon hanging in my view.


Just like a lover, the night can surprise you with unexpected change.  Energy for no reason, a kiss of rain, quiet conversations which seem to mean so much more than they would in the light of day, or the distant echo of a train whistle.  The night, it loves us in return.  Even when we don't deserve it.