The conversation started one late night (or very early morning) in the summer of 1994. I was unemployed, between my freshmen and sophomore year at Kansas State, stuck between art and English education. My best friend and I spent those long summer nights driving aimlessly through our small, sleepy hometown. We played amatuer philosopher during those drives, questioning God, the universe, everything.
"I don't want to live forever," I said.
"Neither do I. Not on Earth, anyway."
"No," I said, "I don't want to go to heaven either. I mean, that's just nuts. Forever is a long time."
My friend laughed. "It's not like heaven's just clouds and harps and shit. I don't think you understand what it would be like."
No, it's not like that at all. I've seen death in my life--death and a lot of change. I remember every one of my grandparents' funerals, my father's, my first wife's. I remember standing in the basement of the Warren-McElwain mortuary in Lawrence, KS deciding on a casket for my wife at age 37.
The funeral director, a relatively young woman herself, stopped in mid sales pitch/product description, and said, "You're too young for this."
Yes, and no. And maybe.
Death is a part of life. Our mortality is what binds us together, and to rob anyone of death is to steal the very essence of what it means to be human. Death is not the worst thing to come for us. Death is our oldest friend. Death reminds us to live, to enjoy, to laugh and have fun, and to love well. Death taught me well from a young age. This is what is the end to which we all must go. This is what gives value and rarity to your life.
I've carried those lessons with me. I have no desire to live forever--and I fear immortality in world not built for it much more than my own death. Maybe heaven isn't harps and clouds and "shit." Maybe I can't comphrended immortality. I do know this: on Earth, I'm happy my time is limited.
It's much more valuable this way.
Showing posts with label Publication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Publication. Show all posts
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Monday, June 9, 2014
The Quiet One
This is kinda-sorta an "author's notes" post but without the spoilers. After a few months of quiet, I have a flurry of writing news. Horror d'oeurves features my flash piece, "Slips of Yew," a title I lifted from Shakespeare's "Scottish play." Okay, Macbeth. I guess it isn't bad luck to reference Macbeth in writing, just theater. Or is it theatre?
When I used to teach Macbeth, I'd show the rather grim and bloody Roman Polanski version. Yes, some moments are silly (e.g., a sleepwalking (in the nude) Lady Macbeth). Thanks for that, executive producer Hugh Hefner. Like anyone slept in the buff in a drafty Scottish castle, but I digress (again). The third of three witches in the film was younger than the others and Polanski/his writers chose to make her mute and assign her lines to the other two. "Slips of Yew" was born as I imagined her voice.
Imagine the excitement when I warned a room full of high school seniors (mostly boys) that we'd see nudity when I showed them the "something wicked this way comes" scene. Now imagine the shock and revulsion when the nudity was a cave full of old hags. Awesome. Those were the days...
Anyway, "Slips of Yew" to Horror d'ouerves marks my third official professional sale (5 cents a word or better)--fourth overall if you count a contest I won a few years ago. Unfortunately, it, added to my other professional sales, runs 1,000 words short of the ascribed 7500 word count/3 pieces threshold to be an active member of the HWA. So be it. I'll keep writing. Thanks to editor Shane Staley for picking up my little bit of darkness.
There's more, too, like "Lucky Numbers" in Dark Moon Digest #16. What's the skinny behind "Lucky Numbers"? Let's just say it might not be a good idea to cast a mask of your recently deceased loved one (post burial, even). And because everyone loves cover art:
The issue isn't officially out yet, but will be soon. Speaking of soon... I'm up at Every Day Fiction again on Wednesday. More soon.
When I used to teach Macbeth, I'd show the rather grim and bloody Roman Polanski version. Yes, some moments are silly (e.g., a sleepwalking (in the nude) Lady Macbeth). Thanks for that, executive producer Hugh Hefner. Like anyone slept in the buff in a drafty Scottish castle, but I digress (again). The third of three witches in the film was younger than the others and Polanski/his writers chose to make her mute and assign her lines to the other two. "Slips of Yew" was born as I imagined her voice.
Imagine the excitement when I warned a room full of high school seniors (mostly boys) that we'd see nudity when I showed them the "something wicked this way comes" scene. Now imagine the shock and revulsion when the nudity was a cave full of old hags. Awesome. Those were the days...
Anyway, "Slips of Yew" to Horror d'ouerves marks my third official professional sale (5 cents a word or better)--fourth overall if you count a contest I won a few years ago. Unfortunately, it, added to my other professional sales, runs 1,000 words short of the ascribed 7500 word count/3 pieces threshold to be an active member of the HWA. So be it. I'll keep writing. Thanks to editor Shane Staley for picking up my little bit of darkness.
There's more, too, like "Lucky Numbers" in Dark Moon Digest #16. What's the skinny behind "Lucky Numbers"? Let's just say it might not be a good idea to cast a mask of your recently deceased loved one (post burial, even). And because everyone loves cover art:
The issue isn't officially out yet, but will be soon. Speaking of soon... I'm up at Every Day Fiction again on Wednesday. More soon.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Author's Notes: "The Summer I Fell in Love"
So... May has come and gone without a single blog post. Bad writer.
But June brings a few new publications, including "The Summer I Fell in Love" in Niteblade #28. I've had a few other stories in Niteblade in the past, including "Bait Worms" way back in Niteblade #6... nearly six years ago.
"The Summer I Fell in Love" is a personal favorite of mine, originally written for an anthology of southern zombie tales. Yes, I wrote the "z" word. Dirty, dirty "z" word. Only this story is different. (We--meaning writers--all say that, don't we?)
Spoilers ahead. Please Read "The Summer I Fell in Love" before moving forward (if you are so inclined).
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Still here?
My story is more about a small town's hate and the irrational ends to which people will go in the face of horrible situations thank the "z" word. The narrator, a teenage girl, falls in love with another girl. Some of the details, lipstick tasting of soap, are fragments from my own memory. I dated a girl whose lipstick tasted like soap, but I was a teenage boy. My small town accepted such things (boys and girls together--not the soap-flavored lipstick). Fictional Connelly, somewhat modeled after my own as every other town I imagine, does not accept two girls falling in love.
When things turn sour, when the zombies show up, the town's angry voices need a target. Julie, the narrator's first love, is an outsider, not from "'round here" and therefore an easy mark. The memories and feelings of falling in love are there, even if the words and point of view aren't mine. The narrator's ache is my own.
This story earned one of my favorite titles--a title even more meaningful because the story is easily about the year of the zombie outbreak, the undead plague. But for the narrator, the real story was Julie--falling in love and Julie's sad fate at the hands of the real monsters. It will always be "the summer I fell in love."
I said there would be spoilers, didn't I?
Thanks for reading and thanks to editor Rhonda Parrish for another chance to have my words read. Please consider supporting Niteblade so they can continue to share fiction with the world. You'll find a "donate" button the right side of the site (scroll down a bit).
Have a beautiful summer. I hope it brings you much love but none of the "z" word.
But June brings a few new publications, including "The Summer I Fell in Love" in Niteblade #28. I've had a few other stories in Niteblade in the past, including "Bait Worms" way back in Niteblade #6... nearly six years ago.
"The Summer I Fell in Love" is a personal favorite of mine, originally written for an anthology of southern zombie tales. Yes, I wrote the "z" word. Dirty, dirty "z" word. Only this story is different. (We--meaning writers--all say that, don't we?)
Spoilers ahead. Please Read "The Summer I Fell in Love" before moving forward (if you are so inclined).
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Still here?
My story is more about a small town's hate and the irrational ends to which people will go in the face of horrible situations thank the "z" word. The narrator, a teenage girl, falls in love with another girl. Some of the details, lipstick tasting of soap, are fragments from my own memory. I dated a girl whose lipstick tasted like soap, but I was a teenage boy. My small town accepted such things (boys and girls together--not the soap-flavored lipstick). Fictional Connelly, somewhat modeled after my own as every other town I imagine, does not accept two girls falling in love.
When things turn sour, when the zombies show up, the town's angry voices need a target. Julie, the narrator's first love, is an outsider, not from "'round here" and therefore an easy mark. The memories and feelings of falling in love are there, even if the words and point of view aren't mine. The narrator's ache is my own.
This story earned one of my favorite titles--a title even more meaningful because the story is easily about the year of the zombie outbreak, the undead plague. But for the narrator, the real story was Julie--falling in love and Julie's sad fate at the hands of the real monsters. It will always be "the summer I fell in love."
I said there would be spoilers, didn't I?
Thanks for reading and thanks to editor Rhonda Parrish for another chance to have my words read. Please consider supporting Niteblade so they can continue to share fiction with the world. You'll find a "donate" button the right side of the site (scroll down a bit).
Have a beautiful summer. I hope it brings you much love but none of the "z" word.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Author's Notes: "Saint Max"
What do I do with these silly stories I write?
Try to have them published, somewhere, so readers can see them. Why would I write silly stories and then sell them for the price of a beer (as I did with "Saint Max" to Phantasmacore)? Because, dear readers, the process of submission makes us all better. I could post this stuff on the blog, but no story will be it's best if it doesn't pass at least some publication muster.
Maybe that's what "Saint Max" is about. Becoming better. As always, there will be spoilers. Please read "Saint Max" if you'd like--it won't even cost you a beer--and head back for the story behind the story.
Ready?
Ready.
"Saint Max" started with a man digging holes in his backyard. He didn't know why. I didn't either when I started the story. He just dug. He did what he felt he needed to do. His son, Max, watches him. It's a strange thing which only grows stranger as every morning the yard looks normal.
Max grows in the story. He has to confront a bully named Caleb, and does so with violence. But nothing is solved for Max. His parents are dead when he goes home after confronting his bully. Why? You, dear reader, must decide. Maybe it was domestic violence (they do fight a lot). Maybe they just died. That's how death works. It simply happens.
And that's the hard part of this story. That's what might keep some readers at bay: sometimes life doesn't offer easy solutions. Sometimes bad stuff happens with no explanation. We want that explanation; we want to "know"--especially in fiction. But the real horror is not knowing. The real horror is the unknown, just like good ol' H.P. Lovecraft said. If a monster killed Max's parents, then the monster is the enemy. Max certainly believes in the monster, but it isn't a real thing. It isn't tangible.
I love this story and Max (both the fictional Max and my son), but it won't be accessible to everyone. Some people like the thrill of chase and death and everything else. But this is about Max surviving after his parents have died. This is about Max trying to figure out what to do with death. And... "A horror story cannot simply be about death."
Read "Saint Max" if you would--and if you do, please let me know what you think. Thanks to editor Jason Block for the future beer and giving my story a home.
Try to have them published, somewhere, so readers can see them. Why would I write silly stories and then sell them for the price of a beer (as I did with "Saint Max" to Phantasmacore)? Because, dear readers, the process of submission makes us all better. I could post this stuff on the blog, but no story will be it's best if it doesn't pass at least some publication muster.
Maybe that's what "Saint Max" is about. Becoming better. As always, there will be spoilers. Please read "Saint Max" if you'd like--it won't even cost you a beer--and head back for the story behind the story.
Ready?
Ready.
"Saint Max" started with a man digging holes in his backyard. He didn't know why. I didn't either when I started the story. He just dug. He did what he felt he needed to do. His son, Max, watches him. It's a strange thing which only grows stranger as every morning the yard looks normal.
Max grows in the story. He has to confront a bully named Caleb, and does so with violence. But nothing is solved for Max. His parents are dead when he goes home after confronting his bully. Why? You, dear reader, must decide. Maybe it was domestic violence (they do fight a lot). Maybe they just died. That's how death works. It simply happens.
And that's the hard part of this story. That's what might keep some readers at bay: sometimes life doesn't offer easy solutions. Sometimes bad stuff happens with no explanation. We want that explanation; we want to "know"--especially in fiction. But the real horror is not knowing. The real horror is the unknown, just like good ol' H.P. Lovecraft said. If a monster killed Max's parents, then the monster is the enemy. Max certainly believes in the monster, but it isn't a real thing. It isn't tangible.
I love this story and Max (both the fictional Max and my son), but it won't be accessible to everyone. Some people like the thrill of chase and death and everything else. But this is about Max surviving after his parents have died. This is about Max trying to figure out what to do with death. And... "A horror story cannot simply be about death."
Read "Saint Max" if you would--and if you do, please let me know what you think. Thanks to editor Jason Block for the future beer and giving my story a home.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Author's Notes: "Silas"
When I was a senior in high school, I dropped Physics at semester to take Forensics. No, not forensic science, but forensics: the art and study of argumentation and debate. This is also known as speech and drama competition, a place where kids recite poetry and prose, preform monologues, or deliver original speeches in front of a judge.
One of the requirements of the class involved attending at least two meets. My coach/teacher provided me with Robert Frost's "The Death of the Hired Man" to read in the oral interpretation of poetry division. I performed one time and tied for fourth (I lost the coin flip and received a fifth place medal--wah wah). It was my only performance of that poem and the only medal I received in forensics. I went on to coach for 12 years as a teacher.
Okay, what does this have to do with "Silas"? Well, the story is available in the Winter/Spring 2014 issue of The Rampallian, and it is one of those odd, hard-to-place pieces. It is, in part, inspired by "The Death of the Hired Man" and features an old hired-hand named Silas, just like the poem. While horrrific in subject matter, it isn't "horror" in the commercial sense.
This is your spoiler alert. So please read "Silas" or continue with the spoilers. I'm afraid it is one of those tales you'll need to shell out a few bucks to buy the issue, but 50% of the issue's proceeds go to benefit Reading is Fundamental.
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My story implies Silas has molested young Rose, the protagonist. I wasn't sure I wanted to tackle such challenging subject matter, but after reading Peter Straub's masterful "The Juniper Tree" I understood the power of challenging subject matter. (I almost put Straub's story down before finishing it--but it's so damn good in the end.) While "Silas" does not touch the hem of Straub's coat, it is born of "The Juniper Tree" and "The Death of the Hired Man" with a good deal of Aaron Polson imagery tossed in the mix. The original title: "The Hired Man is Made of Worms"--I'll let that conjure an image or two without explanation.
Rose is a brave girl in the face of a horrible, harsh reality. In the story, you'll find Silas is the least of her problems. Thanks to The Rampallian and editor Rebecca McKeown, I have the chance to tell her story.
One of the requirements of the class involved attending at least two meets. My coach/teacher provided me with Robert Frost's "The Death of the Hired Man" to read in the oral interpretation of poetry division. I performed one time and tied for fourth (I lost the coin flip and received a fifth place medal--wah wah). It was my only performance of that poem and the only medal I received in forensics. I went on to coach for 12 years as a teacher.
Okay, what does this have to do with "Silas"? Well, the story is available in the Winter/Spring 2014 issue of The Rampallian, and it is one of those odd, hard-to-place pieces. It is, in part, inspired by "The Death of the Hired Man" and features an old hired-hand named Silas, just like the poem. While horrrific in subject matter, it isn't "horror" in the commercial sense.
This is your spoiler alert. So please read "Silas" or continue with the spoilers. I'm afraid it is one of those tales you'll need to shell out a few bucks to buy the issue, but 50% of the issue's proceeds go to benefit Reading is Fundamental.
.
.
.
.
.
My story implies Silas has molested young Rose, the protagonist. I wasn't sure I wanted to tackle such challenging subject matter, but after reading Peter Straub's masterful "The Juniper Tree" I understood the power of challenging subject matter. (I almost put Straub's story down before finishing it--but it's so damn good in the end.) While "Silas" does not touch the hem of Straub's coat, it is born of "The Juniper Tree" and "The Death of the Hired Man" with a good deal of Aaron Polson imagery tossed in the mix. The original title: "The Hired Man is Made of Worms"--I'll let that conjure an image or two without explanation.
Rose is a brave girl in the face of a horrible, harsh reality. In the story, you'll find Silas is the least of her problems. Thanks to The Rampallian and editor Rebecca McKeown, I have the chance to tell her story.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Author's Notes: "The Thing About Ray's Smile"
I often find myself writing a story without any idea where it will land.
(I really wanted to type "end up" but the dangling preposition really burns my eyes.)
"The Thing About Ray's Smile," recently published at Black Heart Magazine, is one of those stories. I had the idea for an image, a really cheeky teenager, and one of my favorite stories, T. Coraghessan Boyle's "Greasy Lake," blended together to tell the very short story of--
Okay, spoiler alert. Read "The Thing About Ray's Smile" first, please.
Ready?
--a teenager who makes a really dumb decision and it costs him his life. The bad decision? To throw an empty beer bottle at a boat full of what he thinks at the time are kids from the local junior college. That image--the bottle arcing through the air in slow motion--comes from a moment in high school when a buddy of mine tossed an empty glass bottle (only root beer in our case) against the side of a building as we cruised past a police car. I feared we'd be pulled over, but weren't. In Ray's case, the result was worse.
"The Thing About Ray's Smile" is unclassifiable. Yes, the end is horrific, but it isn't horror. It's not a crime story, either, even though a crime happens. Literary? Okay. Maybe. It's definitely dark and I enjoy the word play. It's the kind of story I enjoyed writing even without a clear landing in mind.
Thanks to Laura Roberts and Black Heart Magazine for given "Ray" life...
Irony?
(I really wanted to type "end up" but the dangling preposition really burns my eyes.)
"The Thing About Ray's Smile," recently published at Black Heart Magazine, is one of those stories. I had the idea for an image, a really cheeky teenager, and one of my favorite stories, T. Coraghessan Boyle's "Greasy Lake," blended together to tell the very short story of--
Okay, spoiler alert. Read "The Thing About Ray's Smile" first, please.
Ready?
--a teenager who makes a really dumb decision and it costs him his life. The bad decision? To throw an empty beer bottle at a boat full of what he thinks at the time are kids from the local junior college. That image--the bottle arcing through the air in slow motion--comes from a moment in high school when a buddy of mine tossed an empty glass bottle (only root beer in our case) against the side of a building as we cruised past a police car. I feared we'd be pulled over, but weren't. In Ray's case, the result was worse.
"The Thing About Ray's Smile" is unclassifiable. Yes, the end is horrific, but it isn't horror. It's not a crime story, either, even though a crime happens. Literary? Okay. Maybe. It's definitely dark and I enjoy the word play. It's the kind of story I enjoyed writing even without a clear landing in mind.
Thanks to Laura Roberts and Black Heart Magazine for given "Ray" life...
Irony?
Monday, November 11, 2013
Hey Writers. Yeah, YOU.
So I'm thinking about starting a publication...
I've always been a "pay it forward" guy. As a writer, where would I be without publications to which I submit my work? Where would I be without awesome editors who took the time to glance at my stuff, sometimes read it, and in some rare instances publish that work?
With all this in mind, I'm considering another publication. This is all groundwork and nothing is chiseled into a Lovecraftian stone monolith at the bottom of the ocean. If you have a few moments, please take my survey and feel free to share it with other writers.
Publish This! (a survey for writers)
I'll collect surveys for the next month and share the results on the other side. Rumor has it flying monkeys might bring you a cookie.
I've always been a "pay it forward" guy. As a writer, where would I be without publications to which I submit my work? Where would I be without awesome editors who took the time to glance at my stuff, sometimes read it, and in some rare instances publish that work?
With all this in mind, I'm considering another publication. This is all groundwork and nothing is chiseled into a Lovecraftian stone monolith at the bottom of the ocean. If you have a few moments, please take my survey and feel free to share it with other writers.
Publish This! (a survey for writers)
I'll collect surveys for the next month and share the results on the other side. Rumor has it flying monkeys might bring you a cookie.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Going There
Enrollment took place last Thursday night and Friday morning. I saw what felt like hundreds of parents and students in a small amount of time (it was probably only a few dozen, but the feeling was there). I changed schedules, enrolled new kiddos, and was just there for a few to vent.
I don't remember if I've ever blogged about "the well" before, but as I'm nearing 1,000 posts, I don't remember a lot I've blogged about. The well, the deep place inside a person in which they can feel emotion, has been my greatest ally in the last eight months.
When I coached forensics, I talked to my team about the emotional battery inside all of us--the well--and how they could draw from that to make their performances work. I guess I was teaching method acting; it's just the language which spoke to me. This year, one senior placed 5th at state in serious solo acting, the highest placement in years. His piece, "Griefstruck" by J.J. Jonas, involved a tragic car accident which wiped out a young man's entire family. The morning of the performance, I looked at my student and asked, "Do you need any motivation?"
We went there. He knew. I knew. State forensics came only a month after Aimee's death.
My biggest ally in healing--and not only healing from Aimee's suicide, but her illness and struggles over the past eight years--has been the well. Mine's pretty deep, and I don't mind drawing from it. It helps me hear other people in hurt. It helps me work with teenagers. In helps me be there for my own kids, even when I'm exhausted and stretched too thin. It helps me enjoy life, too. It helps me love.
Yes. The well is deep.
Triangulation: Morning After is now available. It's the fourth Triangulation book in which I've managed to land a story, and I thank Stephen Ramey and the whole crew. "Scar Tissue Wings" is as much about Max's stint in Children's Mercy last December as it is about a man who cannot die in a world which already has. The well helps me go there. Triangulation has always been about telling the truth even with a strange spin. Some of my favorite stories have been graced to find themselves in its pages: "Dancing Lessons," "The Good Daughter," "The World in Rubber, Soft and Malleable," and now "Scar Tissue Wings." This may be the last year for the anthology because the price of producing it has stretched limited resources too far. Please buy a copy so future writers can find a venue for their truths.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Shimmer 14
Shimmer #14 has been released to the wild, including:
Food My Father Feeds Me, Love My Husband Shows Me, by A. A. Balaskovits
Chinvat, by Sunny Moraine
Made of Mud, by Ari Goelman
This House was Never a Castle, by Aaron Polson
Minnow, by Carlea Holl-Jensen
Trashman, by A.C. Wise
We Make Tea, by Meryl Ferguson
Bad Moon Risen, by Eric Del Carlo
Some Letters for Ove Lindström, by Karin Tidbeck
Gödel Apparition Fugue, by Craig DeLancey
You can read Eric Del Carlo's piece, "Bad Moon Risen," free online. But I know you want a copy, don't you?
Well, don't you?
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Some Light Reading, Some Heavier
If you haven't read my short humor piece, "How to Write a Horror Story" at Eric's Hysterics, I invite you to do so. It's inspired by... Well, something I'm sure. Maybe you'll find it informative.
Triangulation: Last Contact has been released as well, and I'm pleased to say I made the cover this year. Grab a copy at Amazon ($16.00) or Barnes and Nobel (only $10.25!) and read this year's fine entries, including my minimalist sci-fi tale, "The Good Daughter".
Have a great weekend.
Triangulation: Last Contact has been released as well, and I'm pleased to say I made the cover this year. Grab a copy at Amazon ($16.00) or Barnes and Nobel (only $10.25!) and read this year's fine entries, including my minimalist sci-fi tale, "The Good Daughter".
Have a great weekend.
Friday, July 8, 2011
My Interview with an Inanimate Sheet of Drywall
Me: Good morning, drywall. How are you today?
Drywall:
Me: I see. Not feeling very talkative today. So... How are things? I hear you're about to be attached to the wall in my basement. How do you feel about that?
Drywall:
Me: Oh. Silent protest. I get it. So can you at least tell me what you like to do in your spare time?
Drywall:
Me: Favorite summer paint colors?
Drywall:
Me: Any pets?
Drywall:
Me: Hobbies?
Drywall:
Well... You can see where this is going. How about heading over to Eschatology and reading my short, post-apocalyptic story, "Full Count".
And have a great weekend.
Drywall:
Me: I see. Not feeling very talkative today. So... How are things? I hear you're about to be attached to the wall in my basement. How do you feel about that?
Drywall:
Me: Oh. Silent protest. I get it. So can you at least tell me what you like to do in your spare time?
Drywall:
Me: Favorite summer paint colors?
Drywall:
Me: Any pets?
Drywall:
Me: Hobbies?
Drywall:
Well... You can see where this is going. How about heading over to Eschatology and reading my short, post-apocalyptic story, "Full Count".
And have a great weekend.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
"What Julie's Dad Doesn't Know" at Every Day Fiction
It's good to have some writing news to share (what with the on-going reconstruction of my house).
"What Julie's Dad Doesn't Know" is live today at Every Day Fiction. Give it a read, eh?
"What Julie's Dad Doesn't Know" is live today at Every Day Fiction. Give it a read, eh?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
"The Thing About a Haunting"
How appropriate "The Thing About a Haunting" is now playing at Every Day Fiction--while at the same time, I'm up to my elbows in home improvements. Once you read the piece, you'll understand.
And by "home improvements" I mean home destruction. I've spent close to twelve hours a day for the last three days breaking my house. I've shattered tile, torn wall board, smashed plumbing, demolished cabinets...
Ugh.
And we haven't even started putting everything back together again.
But we will.
There will be pictures.
I promise.
For now, take a break, read my strange little story, and enjoy the last day of May.
And by "home improvements" I mean home destruction. I've spent close to twelve hours a day for the last three days breaking my house. I've shattered tile, torn wall board, smashed plumbing, demolished cabinets...
Ugh.
And we haven't even started putting everything back together again.
But we will.
There will be pictures.
I promise.
For now, take a break, read my strange little story, and enjoy the last day of May.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
WIP Wednesday Gets Around
Let's start in Australia, where this:
has just been released. Not only is the cover art delicious (I promised scary, right?), but lookie here...I'm sharing a TOC with Terry Dowling. (I'm humbled, to be sure.) My little story, "The Weight of Children's Stories" is about stories (and caves, and monsters, and...oh just read it). Grab a copy in PDF or lovely dead tree edition.
On to the United Kingdom, which happens to be where the incredibly talented Cate Gardner lives. I've finally formatted and uploaded Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits to the Kindle store, and you know what? Cate's generously priced the book at 99 cents. Yippee! Check it out on Amazon.
Okay, so my WIP takes place in New Mexico, way back in the territorial days. 1881 to be exact, just about a year after the arrival of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad. Welcome again to the world of the Sons of Chaos (first seen in Black Medicine Thunder). I don't want to give too much away:
The thing had him by the throat, and the pistol fell with a thunk to the wooden floor.
So should I mention the "thing" takes out his heart? I did say scary, didn't I?
has just been released. Not only is the cover art delicious (I promised scary, right?), but lookie here...I'm sharing a TOC with Terry Dowling. (I'm humbled, to be sure.) My little story, "The Weight of Children's Stories" is about stories (and caves, and monsters, and...oh just read it). Grab a copy in PDF or lovely dead tree edition.On to the United Kingdom, which happens to be where the incredibly talented Cate Gardner lives. I've finally formatted and uploaded Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits to the Kindle store, and you know what? Cate's generously priced the book at 99 cents. Yippee! Check it out on Amazon.
Okay, so my WIP takes place in New Mexico, way back in the territorial days. 1881 to be exact, just about a year after the arrival of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad. Welcome again to the world of the Sons of Chaos (first seen in Black Medicine Thunder). I don't want to give too much away:
The thing had him by the throat, and the pistol fell with a thunk to the wooden floor.
So should I mention the "thing" takes out his heart? I did say scary, didn't I?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Hello, Goodbye
Thanks to everyone who read, commented, and/or rated "Soul Marbles". I appreciated all of it: the good, the bad, the ugly, and in between. Every Day Fiction is a perfect example of the power of online markets. The story garnered 20+ comments and 40+ ratings--you and I know there were many more readers. So, thanks.
Hello to Barry Napier's Masks of Our Fathers, which should be available for purchase on Kindle soon (it's already listed on Amazon). I read Masks in beta, and it's a great ride. Day Terrors, including my short story "Sea of Green, Sea of Gold", is also up for purchase in dead-tree format.
Finally, I must say goodbye to our local Borders store. As part of the bankrupcy, Borders will close 200 stores, including the Lawrence branch. Sorry I didn't buy more books...well...not really. We have a great, thriving indie store, The Raven, just down the street. If I'm going to support a brick and mortar, it'll be the indies.
Have a lovely Thursday. And no, we didn't win yesterday. We took second of ten.
Hello to Barry Napier's Masks of Our Fathers, which should be available for purchase on Kindle soon (it's already listed on Amazon). I read Masks in beta, and it's a great ride. Day Terrors, including my short story "Sea of Green, Sea of Gold", is also up for purchase in dead-tree format.
Finally, I must say goodbye to our local Borders store. As part of the bankrupcy, Borders will close 200 stores, including the Lawrence branch. Sorry I didn't buy more books...well...not really. We have a great, thriving indie store, The Raven, just down the street. If I'm going to support a brick and mortar, it'll be the indies.
Have a lovely Thursday. And no, we didn't win yesterday. We took second of ten.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
"Soul Marbles" at Every Day Fiction
You can read my journeyman story, "Soul Marbles", at Every Day Fiction today. I use the word journeyman because a few top-notch flash markets have held it for "final review" and then rejected it in the end. I'm glad it finally has a home.
Is it speculative? I'll leave that for you to decide (and you will have to decide). As always, I appreciate the read, the rating, and any comments, good or bad, you choose to make.
I'm off to our "league" forensics meet today. It would be nice to bring home the banner...
Is it speculative? I'll leave that for you to decide (and you will have to decide). As always, I appreciate the read, the rating, and any comments, good or bad, you choose to make.
I'm off to our "league" forensics meet today. It would be nice to bring home the banner...
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
WIP Wednesday is Fraught with Absurdity
We have another snow day. Eight this year. I'm going a little batty, to tell the truth.
So I spent a good deal of my morning editing Borrowed Saints. This afternoon, I'll have another look at Anthony J. Rapino's Uprooted, the next chapbook for Strange Publications.
If you find yourself snowed in and need something to read (or just need something to read), might I steer you toward Jeremy Kelley's "This is Nathan Hall" (a serial short at his blog).
Innsmouth Free Press #6 is up and running, too, featuring several lovely pieces of weird fiction by writers such as Angela Slatter, Joshua M. Reynolds, Daniel José Older, and yours truly with "Drowning Old Milford". As always, it is a free read, and you can download the PDF issue for free, too.
Have a lovely day. No more snow, okay?
So I spent a good deal of my morning editing Borrowed Saints. This afternoon, I'll have another look at Anthony J. Rapino's Uprooted, the next chapbook for Strange Publications.
If you find yourself snowed in and need something to read (or just need something to read), might I steer you toward Jeremy Kelley's "This is Nathan Hall" (a serial short at his blog).
Innsmouth Free Press #6 is up and running, too, featuring several lovely pieces of weird fiction by writers such as Angela Slatter, Joshua M. Reynolds, Daniel José Older, and yours truly with "Drowning Old Milford". As always, it is a free read, and you can download the PDF issue for free, too.
Have a lovely day. No more snow, okay?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
WIP Wednesday Gets Out of the Way
Because The House Eaters is now available in paperback. I'm excited, of course, because I love this story and its sarcastic, wise-cracking narrator, Nick Gillingham. Nick Gillingham knew that moving before his senior year would really suck... but he never imagined a nightmare like Broughton’s Hollow. It’s bad enough that Nick hears disembodied voices after moving near “the House”—a crumbling relic with a sinister past. But then the local football team decides to make him their new tackling dummy, the “hot babe” at school starts manipulating him for her own nefarious purposes, and his parents’ marriage falls apart. When Nick’s elderly neighbor hints that whatever lurks within “the House” might be the cause of his troubles, he sets out to uncover the truth behind the local Indian legend of the “Eating Monster.” Nick will to have to rely on a band of social outcasts from school—and his looney kid sister—to put his life and family back together again. But even if he survives a close encounter with “the House,” Nick will still need to find a date for the homecoming dance...
So yeah, to sum up: excited. You can purchase a copy at Amazon.com or signed copies through me (just send an email to aaron.polson@gmail.com). Ebook edition to follow soon...
Monday, January 31, 2011
"When Megan Could Fly" at Liquid Imagination
I have one of "those" stories up at Liquid Imagination today (I'll let you, dear readers, decide what that means). You can read "When Megan Could Fly" or listen to the wonderful Robert Eccles read the story. I had originally intended the tale to be part of How We Die in a Hungry Town when the manuscript was titled We're All Liars Here, but then the character of Megan changed. Too much, really.
Liquid Imagination serves a few pictures to go with each story, and I found the first to be rather thought-provoking. Let me know if it provokes you, too.
Thanks to the Liquid Imagination crew for publishing "When Megan Could Fly". Part of the story is true, but I'll leave you to decide which part...
Liquid Imagination serves a few pictures to go with each story, and I found the first to be rather thought-provoking. Let me know if it provokes you, too.
Thanks to the Liquid Imagination crew for publishing "When Megan Could Fly". Part of the story is true, but I'll leave you to decide which part...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Shock Totem 3
I wanted to wait until I had this
in hand before I posted about how damn proud I was to have a story in Shock Totem. A big thank you to the brave editors for taking a chance on my little story, "Wanting It". It's one of my favorite tales, if not my very favorite (don't tell my other stories) and never fails to catch me with armor down at the end.
I've already devoured John Skipp's rather delicious (if one can stomach it) entry and a wonderfully sad tale from Jeremy Kelly, "A Birth in the Year of the Miracle Plague". Shock Totem is a mag well worth your support.
You know what to do.
in hand before I posted about how damn proud I was to have a story in Shock Totem. A big thank you to the brave editors for taking a chance on my little story, "Wanting It". It's one of my favorite tales, if not my very favorite (don't tell my other stories) and never fails to catch me with armor down at the end. 
I've already devoured John Skipp's rather delicious (if one can stomach it) entry and a wonderfully sad tale from Jeremy Kelly, "A Birth in the Year of the Miracle Plague". Shock Totem is a mag well worth your support. You know what to do.
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