In which I use as a pick-up line, “I don’t think God actually cares about you.”

Posted: 07/06/2011 in Uncategorized

The past is not a country you can visit. It is a temporary physical state, and once it is gone there is no way to force it back into place.

Memory will fuck you up. Even if you can manage to swing it in the eternal present you’ll eventually get bitten by the fact that you remember what it was like to have perspective.

I’m on a train, see. And there’s someone standing on the platform. I’m looking right at them, so of course that’s where they are. Where else would they be? And then the train starts moving and they’re gone, and it fucking tears me apart for a minute, and then nothing. Because they’re not there, of course they’re not there, I’m just on this train by myself. But see, the old part of me knows they used to be there, and pretty soon this country will be where I used to be, and where I won’t be for a damn long time. The old part is trying to break through, still.

The right train will take you home, and there is only one.

Been a busy week. First of all, Rapunzel’s Daughters is out with my story “The Death of Urashima Taro,” my first experience with a story that wrote itself. It’s a damn fine paperback and I’m told you can get it for your e-reader too, or at least will be able to soon, but it’s worth it just for the artwork. Duncan Eagleson is my new BFF for drawing a tamatebako in the picture for Urashima Taro, meaning he either already knew what one looks like or took the trouble to look it up. Having known some of his other work, I’m not that surprised either way. If you like the story, look into it. There’s some small bit of symbolism going on, which is surprising because normally I shit on symbolism.

Oh, and it’s semi-dedicated to the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. for reasons that become clear upon reading.

Even important memories are buried in the mind’s obscure recesses and will only come out when their names are properly called.

On the online-for-free front you can check out “The Foolish Samurai” in the Heroes/Heroines issue of Crossed Genres. If the title sounds familiar it’s because the story was conceived as a send-up of Samurai Jack. Ben and I got recruited to do a reading of it at a party a little while ago, complete with Samurai Jack and Aku voices. My throat hurt like fuck. This story sets my record for largest number of named characters, which is part of why it’s so much fun. If you like print, hold tight; from my understanding they’ll be putting it out in Crossed Genres Quarterly in a few months, along with the next couple of issues.

About that… not long after Heroes/Heroines came out, the editors of CG informed me that they want to use another of my stories, “The Only Friend You Ever Need” in the next issue, Sidekicks/Minions. CG is worth hanging around for other reasons too–these guys are professionals.

There is no present in the samurai’s internal world; the past and the future, and nothing else.

I’m not even fucking done yet. 69 Flavors has their anthology out, REFLUX, including my story “Feral” which appeared there last year. I’ve said enough about how much I adore this zine to give you an idea how much I like the antho. What’s more, my story “Two Senses” is in the current issue of 69fop–incidentally, “Two Senses” originally popped up in the Crossed Genres flash fiction contest, also last year. You can’t see it there anymore since the finalists were taken down after voting ended, but luckily now that’s not a problem.

I’ll have work coming out at least two other places in July, possibly three. The biggest problem is that most of it will be in print, and print, while sexy and fun and (according to some people other than me) good-smelling, is expensive and involves dead trees. Free electronic versions are also sexy and fun, and while I can’t vouch for the smell I’ve always made it my goal to get as much of it available as I can. To help with this, I’ve got a free ebook of my chapbook Eating Paper available thru Lulu. Only “The Dynamist” has been omitted for the ebook version, as that story has recently been published over at Why Vandalism?

The world is getting polluted with so much of my shit it’s not even funny. Give me a nose bleed is what it does.

In Columbus there’s all these young micropresses popping up, and I haven’t read any of their books but they have the shittiest covers imaginable. I’m kind of embarrassed for them.


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