PATREON-POLOGY (tm)

I was really hoping to post a third Patreon piece before December but it clearly ain't gonna happen now. So, my pledge for the month of December is to try and post four pieces but to at least post three.

In the meantime, click here to see all the scrumptious goodness you're missing by not paying a measly minimum of $1.00 per month.

See ya in December!

I'm at the Lie-Berry!!!

I love the fact that three anthologies I have stories in can be found in the library system I work for. I wish they were at the actual libraries I work for but the fact that they're accessible in the shared system is still pretty freakin' awesome.

I can't lay claim to "Angels in the Endzone" and for that I am eternally grateful. The three anthologies, however, do indeed feature my work. If you live in Southeastern Michigan and have a library card, be sure to visit The Library Network for more info!

Things That Make you go "Aww!"

When I see the below pic of the new "Charlie's Angels," my first reaction is to say, "Aww." They look like children playing big people games. Infantilization is swiftly making it difficult to take actors seriously in certain roles because they still look and act very much like pre-teens and teenagers.  No wonder it's a flop.

Never mind that it's already been remade once or that there's only one pretty one (the one in the middle) or that Elizabeth Banks has clearly lost her mind, that still says it all!

And people wonder why I express almost zero interest in seeing my work adapted by Hollywood!

2ND PATREON POST OF NOVEMBER.

Another never-before-published story.

Read it here.

In the Beginnings (Three Beginnings to Unfinished Stories)

Like most and probably all writers, I have lots and lots of unfinished stories and novels just sitting around waiting for me to get back to them. There was a time when something like 95% of everything I started remained that way, but thanks to one of my three mentors, the late Annabelle McIlnay, I became much more disciplined. In fact, when a co-worker recently asked me if I was participating in NanoWriMo this year, I awkwardly informed her I didn't really need to.  Well, I tried to say that but was too busy being yelled at as the co-worker demanded that I not even finish my sentence.

Still, none of that means I am so disciplined that I finish everything. I'd estimate now that my completion rate is something like 70%, which is still damn good.  At the risk of sounding like an even worse braggart, there's also the matter of my output ratio. Simply put, I start more stories than I used to when Annabelle was admonishing me to "Just finish one damn thing" before starting another.

I recently completed a script and a short story that I am still debating whether or not to let anyone else see (read about that here) but there are several stories still sitting in my to-do pile wondering what my problem is. I need motivation. I need that gentle push. I need you, baby.

So, here are the first sections of three unfinished stories for you to read and provide me with one simple piece of feedback: Which one should I finish next or should I scrap them all and go back to scribe school with my wanna-be Hemingway ass?

Leave a comment with your insightful comments and see the story starts below:

Partners

His name isn’t important.

He will tell you the same. For reference purposes, you may refer to him as “Mal.” Whatever his last name is or was, he hasn’t used it in years and no longer cares to remember it. 

What he does care about, however, is what will transpire over the course of the next few hours. He stands before a large group of people -- call them what they are --Call them followers -- that stares at him with grim expectation and damn near blind devotion. He tries to smile reassuringly but the muscles in his face that form such things have long since gone dead. 

Just like his tear ducts.

Final Illumination

Howard stops climbing the wall, turns to me and says, “Do you think he can hear what we’re

thinking all the way out here?”

I shake my head with what I hope is confidence, motion for him to keep climbing. Even brief delays such as these could cost us dearly. 

Below us, the searchlights move frantically along the craggy surface, all-terrain vehicles reflecting the light for an instant as they continue their own search for the escaped dissidents. For us. I can feel Howard’s fear. I can feel his hopefulness as well. He believes in me and my ability to get him to safety. 

Fifteen years ago, one glance at my inhuman face would have sent a human like Howard screaming into the nearest safe spot. But times have changed for the human race, as they have for us. 

And it was all because of one young man in a place called Westphalia, Michigan.

The Wall They Paid For

  The Great and Noble Book of Orange tells the story of a time when the haters and losers opposed the Wall. It’s hard to believe this is true, but since all other information is Fake News, it has to be true. But sometimes, when I’m alone and the Drainers aren’t in the vicinity, I confess I doubt the Word of our founder.

         The story, told in the Book’s typical one-hundred and forty character sentences, features many references to those ancient people known as the Demoncrats, who existed solely to oppose the founder and to hate freedom. There’s nothing in the Book that actually explains why they did these things or really who they were, but that’s a matter for the Church Apprentices to address when they deliver the Sunday night sermons. I haven’t been to church in months, a fact that has not gone unnoticed by the Apprenticeship. They have only mentioned it in casual conversation so far but the time is swiftly approaching when they will become more aggressive. That means I don’t have much time to accomplish my task.

Classics ReMixed II Coming In December.

Featuring my short story, "Gorgon not Forgotten," the Left Hand Publishers anthology Classics Remixed II is now available for pre-order.

See the cover below:

It's an odd one, to be sure, but still not as odd as:


THIS little gem!





(My short story "On the Eighth Day" was featured in this one, so it remains probably my most unread work)











Anyway, I won't reprint the entire letter I received here but I will share my favorite part in closing:

"All of us at Left Hand Publishers are VERY excited about Classics ReMixed II. It’s one of our favorites. We know you’re going to love it too. I’m really glad you agreed to go genderless in “Gorgon Not Forgotten.” It’s a great read. As always, thank you for being a part of the family of LHP authors."

First Patreon Post of November.

Read it here.

A Critique of my Own (unpublished) Short Story

Yesterday I wrote what in two sittings used to be known as a "short-short story" that is so dark, so disturbing and such a raw peek into my inner turmoil that I am afraid to let anyone else see it. It's not a revenge fantasy or some type of sociopolitical screed. Its subject matter, couched in surrealism and metaphor, is much more private. And no, I'm not going to reveal it here. What I am going to do, however, is discuss the writing of the story itself.

Clocking in at 866 words, the story I wound up calling "Once Broken" drops the reader directly into the middle of a moment that comes with no explanation. Filled with cryptic dialogue between two men, one of whom may not even be there, it basically details the prelude to a decision with enormous consequences. This was one of those times when what was in my head showed up on the screen.

The prose is sparse, the dialogue drives the plot and the imagery is almost non-existent except when a point is being made. I wish it had happened once the story was written but my damn self-awareness kicked in somewhere in the middle and I realized whose style I was mirroring.

I've been a Don DeLillo admirer for several years, and am especially impressed with his more surreal books such as "Cosmopolis," "The Body Artist" and "Mao II." Something about his shifting realities and grounded characters appeals to me in ways other authors have not tapped into. Perhaps Chuck Palahniuk's work has a similar effect on me but DeLillo's functions on a much higher, more esoteric level.

I'm not saying my story does that but it certainly has aspirations in that direction. Sadly, it's also disturbingly auto-biographical. It may even be the story someone looks back on one day and says, "If only we'd paid closer attention to that one."

Regardless, I now have a story that makes me uncomfortable. I suppose I could make the argument that in my own way I've achieved true art. For what is more meaningful than creating something one cannot feel comfortable letting others see? Is there not a purity to that? 

I remember my mother once telling me she painted something so horrifying, so deeply personal that she destroyed it afterwards because she couldn't bear letting it exist as a reminder of how far she'd fallen in those moments. Well, to borrow a famous commercial phrase from the Eighties, "I've fallen and I can't get up." I experienced no shame when writing "Once Broken." I just don't know if I want to give people clues to my state of mind if it actually gets published.

And that's a big "If." It's not the most accessible piece I've written.

So, while I welcome the feeling of being able to disturb myself, I will have to take some time before deciding if anyone else gets to read it. If it helps out everything into perspective, I think it's one of the best things I've written in a while.