Lonely Monsters
I write a lot about lonely monsters. I realized this recently- it's almost like my default setting.

When I was a kid I had a book I loved called 'The Lonely Skyscraper'. I scoured the net but couldn't find a single picture from its pages. Its about a skyscraper that feels lonely in the city when all the workers go home. So it goes to the country and gets filled with animals and becomes happy.

Also I write about madness, and self-destruction. When I set down to just write without a solid plan, it normally turns into one of those stories. A lonely monster gets lonelier and madder and dies, or finds some way to get happy.

Are there are other stories? Hmm. Of course there are. But the only stories I seem interested in writing are those. Even my 'weird city' stories, which had a lot of thought and pre-meditation put into them, are about sad and lonely and damaged people trying to find a way to fix themselves or belong.

Clay Head. Gutterman. Jack. Jayne. Bob. Sky Painter. The Sphinx. Human Caterpillar. Stormwatcher. Etc..