A. H. Slagle

A. H. Slagle

is creating Novels and short stories

0

patrons

$0

per month
- ABOUT -

I'm Adam. I'm a were-author. By day I'm just an ordinary patent clerk, but by the light of the full moon I grow fangs, claws, and unsightly body hair. Then I stalk down the nearest keyboard, wrestle it into submission and - shock, horror, oh the humanity - I write things!

What, you're not already hooked? Okay, fine; I write Sci-Fi, often with urban fantasy, horror, cyberpunk or apocalyptic themes. Sometimes all at once, because who doesn't like a wizard in Kevlar fighting Mecha-Cthulhu in the dying embers of human civilization? (Disclaimer: My works do not actually feature robot Elder Gods. Often.)

I post some of my work for free. By supporting me, you get access to the rest of it, and you enable me to spend less time at my day job and more time at my computer banging out stories for you to enjoy. Also included: the vicarious thrill of supporting an independant creator laboring in the shadows of a giant and merciless industry. Or something.

If you read all this, thank you. Please take a look at what I've posted for free, and if you like it, please consider supporting me. Even the lowest tier of support is greatly appreciated, and earns you my undying gratitude.

- BIBLIOGRAPHY -

FREE SHORT STORIES:
- HARDWARE - AVAILABLE
Street hacker screws up, turns corporate merc, screws up some more.
 - LACUNACE - IN PROGRESS
James Mallory died. Then he woke up in a hospital bed. Only something was missing: his life.

PAYWALL SHORT STORIES:
- GEHENNA - IN PROGRESS
The drowned slums aren't the best place to live, but Hannah's got a way out. The only thing she needs is some serious firepower. And a few friends to watch her back.

PAYWALL NOVELS:
- DIRTSIDERS - IN PROGRESS
A hundred years ago, the age of spiritual machines turned the Earth into a backwater reservation for unmodified organic life. But you don't know that. All you know is you've woken up in a dying station floating somewhere inside the Moon's orbit, with no memory of who you were and a dubiously sane A.I. shouting in your head. Next stop: Earth. And from there, well, you'll just have to improvise.
- SKINWALKER - IN QUEUE
Timothy Wu is not having the best day. His best friend woke him up at three in the morning with news that his sister - Tim's unrequited crush since Freshman year - has disappeared. Then he got chased through a warehouse full of werewolves by a creature straight out of The Thing. Then he got killed. And eaten. And then things really went downhill...
- IN THE LAND OF ICE AND EMBERS - IN QUEUE
The city is dead, like all the others. But they're walking towards it anyway. Because a city, even a dead city, means food for malnourished bodies, shelter from the driving snow, and respite from the wilderness. But there are worse things than being alone in the wilds. Worse things by far. Because cities are places of power, of weight, and that weight tends to attract things. Things that two half-starved teenagers don't have a chance in hell of standing against. But you can't run forever.
- PHASE - IN QUEUE
     There’s a helicopter buzzing over the city, peering into rooftops with infrared eyes. Not sure what they’re looking for. After all, the two of us don’t give off more of a signature than any other random, cowering citizen refugee.
    Rumble in the distance as another building collapses.
    Welcome to the end of the world.
     To everyone else; what you’re reading is probably the single most important thing you have ever seen in your life. That’s just the way it is. Read this. Send it to your family, your friends, your coworkers and everyone you know. Talk about it. Get the whole planet in on this and maybe, /maybe/, you can stop this thing.
    But I doubt it.
 - FIX - IN QUEUE
Let's say you had a certain... ability. Let's say for you, people's emotions, their feelings, their surface level thoughts, were just sitting there in the air, waiting for you to come along and pluck them out of their heads. Now let's say you can't turn that ability off. What kind of person could live like that, day in and day out? How would you find the will to continue amidst the daily assault on your senses? And what kind of good - or evil - could you do with that kind of power?
Tiers
Pledge $1 or more per month
Access to all my short stories.
Pledge $3 or more per month
Access to all my short stories and my novels.
Pledge $10 or more per month
Access to all my short stories and my novels and the chance to vote on what writing project I work on next.
Pledge $25 or more per month
only 25 left
Access to all my short stories and my novels and voting rights and each month you will receive one hour of my time.

Want me to proofread something for you? No problem. Have something you want me to review or promote? Absolutely. Want me to write you a thousand words of Homestuck smut? I might look at you funny, but I'll do it. Want me to take a picture of myself with a cucumber on my head and send it to you? Sure. Why not.
Pledge $100 or more per month
only 1 left
Access to all my short stories and my novels and voting rights and each month you will receive 5000 words on a topic of your choice.

That's two cents a word.
 Most authors charge $0.10 - $0.20 a word. Every month you tell me what you want me to write about and I'll write it for you. An essay about a political topic? A short story? A novel where you pick the characters and setting and plot? Anything you want.
Goals
$0 of $3,000 per month
At this level of funding, I'll be able to quit my nine to five and write full time. This has been my dream since I was fifteen years old, and every little bit you pledge gets me closer to achieving it.
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- ABOUT -

I'm Adam. I'm a were-author. By day I'm just an ordinary patent clerk, but by the light of the full moon I grow fangs, claws, and unsightly body hair. Then I stalk down the nearest keyboard, wrestle it into submission and - shock, horror, oh the humanity - I write things!

What, you're not already hooked? Okay, fine; I write Sci-Fi, often with urban fantasy, horror, cyberpunk or apocalyptic themes. Sometimes all at once, because who doesn't like a wizard in Kevlar fighting Mecha-Cthulhu in the dying embers of human civilization? (Disclaimer: My works do not actually feature robot Elder Gods. Often.)

I post some of my work for free. By supporting me, you get access to the rest of it, and you enable me to spend less time at my day job and more time at my computer banging out stories for you to enjoy. Also included: the vicarious thrill of supporting an independant creator laboring in the shadows of a giant and merciless industry. Or something.

If you read all this, thank you. Please take a look at what I've posted for free, and if you like it, please consider supporting me. Even the lowest tier of support is greatly appreciated, and earns you my undying gratitude.

- BIBLIOGRAPHY -

FREE SHORT STORIES:
- HARDWARE - AVAILABLE
Street hacker screws up, turns corporate merc, screws up some more.
 - LACUNACE - IN PROGRESS
James Mallory died. Then he woke up in a hospital bed. Only something was missing: his life.

PAYWALL SHORT STORIES:
- GEHENNA - IN PROGRESS
The drowned slums aren't the best place to live, but Hannah's got a way out. The only thing she needs is some serious firepower. And a few friends to watch her back.

PAYWALL NOVELS:
- DIRTSIDERS - IN PROGRESS
A hundred years ago, the age of spiritual machines turned the Earth into a backwater reservation for unmodified organic life. But you don't know that. All you know is you've woken up in a dying station floating somewhere inside the Moon's orbit, with no memory of who you were and a dubiously sane A.I. shouting in your head. Next stop: Earth. And from there, well, you'll just have to improvise.
- SKINWALKER - IN QUEUE
Timothy Wu is not having the best day. His best friend woke him up at three in the morning with news that his sister - Tim's unrequited crush since Freshman year - has disappeared. Then he got chased through a warehouse full of werewolves by a creature straight out of The Thing. Then he got killed. And eaten. And then things really went downhill...
- IN THE LAND OF ICE AND EMBERS - IN QUEUE
The city is dead, like all the others. But they're walking towards it anyway. Because a city, even a dead city, means food for malnourished bodies, shelter from the driving snow, and respite from the wilderness. But there are worse things than being alone in the wilds. Worse things by far. Because cities are places of power, of weight, and that weight tends to attract things. Things that two half-starved teenagers don't have a chance in hell of standing against. But you can't run forever.
- PHASE - IN QUEUE
     There’s a helicopter buzzing over the city, peering into rooftops with infrared eyes. Not sure what they’re looking for. After all, the two of us don’t give off more of a signature than any other random, cowering citizen refugee.
    Rumble in the distance as another building collapses.
    Welcome to the end of the world.
     To everyone else; what you’re reading is probably the single most important thing you have ever seen in your life. That’s just the way it is. Read this. Send it to your family, your friends, your coworkers and everyone you know. Talk about it. Get the whole planet in on this and maybe, /maybe/, you can stop this thing.
    But I doubt it.
 - FIX - IN QUEUE
Let's say you had a certain... ability. Let's say for you, people's emotions, their feelings, their surface level thoughts, were just sitting there in the air, waiting for you to come along and pluck them out of their heads. Now let's say you can't turn that ability off. What kind of person could live like that, day in and day out? How would you find the will to continue amidst the daily assault on your senses? And what kind of good - or evil - could you do with that kind of power?

Recent posts by A. H. Slagle

Tiers
Pledge $1 or more per month
Access to all my short stories.
Pledge $3 or more per month
Access to all my short stories and my novels.
Pledge $10 or more per month
Access to all my short stories and my novels and the chance to vote on what writing project I work on next.
Pledge $25 or more per month
only 25 left
Access to all my short stories and my novels and voting rights and each month you will receive one hour of my time.

Want me to proofread something for you? No problem. Have something you want me to review or promote? Absolutely. Want me to write you a thousand words of Homestuck smut? I might look at you funny, but I'll do it. Want me to take a picture of myself with a cucumber on my head and send it to you? Sure. Why not.
Pledge $100 or more per month
only 1 left
Access to all my short stories and my novels and voting rights and each month you will receive 5000 words on a topic of your choice.

That's two cents a word.
 Most authors charge $0.10 - $0.20 a word. Every month you tell me what you want me to write about and I'll write it for you. An essay about a political topic? A short story? A novel where you pick the characters and setting and plot? Anything you want.