Tuesday Grab Bag

Here's your free schtuff for Tuesday:

A piece of haunting ambient music, "Gentle Now, Ghosty", from a longer work of love songs for ghosts on which I'm working. (look, I'm no professional musician, okay?)

A lovely Amazon comment about "Former Vocations" (a poem in A.P. Fuch's Vicious Verses and Reanimated Rhymes):

"...'Former Vocations' (Aaron Polson) provides marvelously personal snapshots of the end of it all." - from Anton LeCancre "horror geek"

A recommendation for Rio Youers' Mama Fish over at Skull Salad Reviews (BT's send up of the latest from The New Bedlam Project has been imported over there, too).

Finally, a list of imagery generated by one of my classes (I love me some imagery):

Sight
vibrant, sparkling, gleaming, dull, dirty, filthy, glossy, lustrous

Sound
screech, squeal, ding, rumble, muted, congested, crunching, crackling, gurgle, swoosh, swish

Taste
fruity, bitter, sour, sweet, tart, spicy, foul, bland, savory, tangy, stale, fresh, rotten, rancid

Touch
gritty, grainy, poky, knobby, oily, slimy, smooth, rough, bumpy, prickly, sharp, puffy, fluffy, dry, wet, slick, pocked

Smell
foul, stinky, raunchy, stench, skunky, dusty, musty, floral, pungent, smoky, fishy, musky

We spent about ten minutes generating the list. What other magnificent words could we add to the list?

WIP Wednesday: The Poetry Edition

Why the poetry edition? Well, Vicious Verses and Reanimated Rhymes: Zany Zombie Poetry for the Undead Head edited by A.P. Fuchs has just been released by Coscom Entertainment, and yes, I wrote a little ode to the undead for the collection. Buy a copy and read "Former Vocations" along with other fine examples of Z-poetry.

As far as Loathsome goes...well, I had big plans. I was going to beat 40K this week. I came close, teetering just on the full side of 38K. Not bad considering Owen's injury and birthday party. We won't mention school again.

Crap. I just did.

My goal is to top the 40K mark, then spend some less intensive time adding some bits in the first half. With the start of, um, you-know-what, I plan on taking writing a little slower for the next few weeks. The rest of the book is outlined, but I'm going to wait until things settle to finish. If the 1st draft is done by the end of September, I'll be very happy. In the meantime, I might write a few short stories that have been tugging at my shirttails.

“I’m sick of your badgering…you’re a low-life, a gun-for-hire…no different than—”

Olson never finished his statement because Silas brought a clenched fist in contact with his chin. Olson staggered backwards, his glasses sitting cockeyed on his nose. His arms flailed behind him, but he caught his balance before falling. Meanwhile, Silas bent his knees and brought his fists in front of his face, assuming a boxer’s stance.

“C’mon, damnit. Fight!”

Jim thumped me on the shoulder. “You gonna stop this?”

I shook my head. John’s eyes burned the back of my neck. I heard the bunk creak as Jim scooted away.

Olson dabbed his mouth with the back of his left hand, catching a bit of blood on his upper lip. “You’ve lost your mind…I’m not f-fighting you.”

Silas came at him again, swinging a left hook into the smaller man’s chest. Olson doubled over with an audible “oof”. Silas spat on the dirt floor.

“Gonna let me embarrass you like this, ya pansy?”

Well. Not much poetic about that scene.

Happy writing, everyone.