1. Vanessa Woods' book "Bonobo Handshake". I heard about her on PRI's "To The Best Of Our Knowledge", and I went to the library and got it out. I didn't expect much of it or from it. I'm not a big ecology reader, and not really an animal person. Sorry, I'm just not. But I loved this book- she's earthy, funny, and makes the story about the region and the people as much as the animals. Very highly recommended.
2. Once again, To The Best Of Our Knowledge. They continually make really compelling hours of radio, about all sorts of topics.
3. Mike Schmidt's The Forty Year Old Boy podcast. Mike is profane, longwinded, but funny as hell. Basically think like Eric Bogosian, except with less hair. #referencesabout7peoplewillget
4. Michael Cunningham's new book "At Nightfall". Engaging and hypnotizing. It is the story of people I don't know anything about and am nothing like, and they come to life brilliantly. He makes me weak with jealousy.
5. Kelly
Saturday, January 22, 2011
I hate you, Michael Cunningham
I hate you because I've been trying to put something into words for all of my adult life, and you managed to do it in two sentences.
"We-we men-are the frightened ones, the blundering and nervous ones; if we act the skeptic or the bully sometimes it's because we suspect we're wrong in some deep incalculable way that women are not. Our impersonations are failing us and our vices and habits are ludicrous and when we present ourselves at the gates of heaven the enormous black woman who guards them will laugh at us not only because we aren't innocent but because we have no idea about anything that actually matters."
Friday, January 21, 2011
100 Word Challenge: Dancing Days (NSFW)
Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word Challenge was almost entirely not responsible for the Jets' victory over the Patriots last week. The word this week is "credentials", and my story is called "Dancing Days".
I'm going to call this one NSFW, though it really isn't. At best, it contains an "adult situation". Whatever that means.
Consider yourself warned.
She presented herself to him shyly, showing him what one should only show a lover or a doctor, like she was showing her invitation to a fancy dress ball. She folded away the tiny triangles of fabric with delicate, precise care, then stood up. The bass pounded through the walls of the tiny room. He knew she wasn't here entirely willingly, and he knew the twenties she had folded away would not pay for textbooks. He suspected no one had treated her kindly in her short life.
He knew all that was true.
Then again, he didn't leave.
I'm going to call this one NSFW, though it really isn't. At best, it contains an "adult situation". Whatever that means.
Consider yourself warned.
She presented herself to him shyly, showing him what one should only show a lover or a doctor, like she was showing her invitation to a fancy dress ball. She folded away the tiny triangles of fabric with delicate, precise care, then stood up. The bass pounded through the walls of the tiny room. He knew she wasn't here entirely willingly, and he knew the twenties she had folded away would not pay for textbooks. He suspected no one had treated her kindly in her short life.
He knew all that was true.
Then again, he didn't leave.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Friday Means It's "Meeting Time"
The 52/250 Flash has come into the world again. This week's stories are about "animal behavior", and my story, "Meeting Time", may be found here.
Friday, January 14, 2011
100 Words: "A Sister's Revenge"
The inimitable Velvet Verbosity, who is as close to invincible as mortal beings can hope to be, has issued another 100 Word Challenge to word nerds far and wide. This week's word is "Invicible", and my story is called "A Sister's Revenge"
Krista was always first, she thought, looking at her older sister's face grow red and contort with effort. The first to mature, the first to have a boyfriend, the first to marry, now the first to produce the grandchild their mother wouldn't admit to coveting. Krista was the prow on the front of the family ship- indestructible and perfect. She both loved and hated that about her- nothing she did would be anything but a reflection, because Krista was first.
The doctors told Krista to push, and she swore back at them.
Not so invincible now, she thought.
Krista was always first, she thought, looking at her older sister's face grow red and contort with effort. The first to mature, the first to have a boyfriend, the first to marry, now the first to produce the grandchild their mother wouldn't admit to coveting. Krista was the prow on the front of the family ship- indestructible and perfect. She both loved and hated that about her- nothing she did would be anything but a reflection, because Krista was first.
The doctors told Krista to push, and she swore back at them.
Not so invincible now, she thought.
Friday Flash- "Playground Mom"
This week's flash is called "Loose Connections", and my entry, "Playground Mom", is here
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Le Livre? C'est fini. (The Book? It Is Finished.)
My book, called "Everybody Loves You Now", a novel set in the early 1990s of a guitar playing grad student who falls in love with someone he probably shouldn't, is, as of the present moment, available for purchase. You can see the links on the sidebar. At this very moment, Smashwords has it for $1.00, for online reading and non Kindle e book readers, and Createspace's e store has the paperback for $15.00. Amazon will have it soon, and the Kindle version is also coming soon. (Amazon, while being perfectly willing to sell whatever you have to upload to them, apparently wants to review your work, I assume to avoid copyright and other legal concerns.) To be perfectly honest, you might want to wait for those, because Amazon's shipping, I am told, is way more reasonable than Createspace's, and the Kindle version will be $5.00, which is also way more reasonable than $15.00 plus shipping.
The book, as I say, is a love story. I have been writing it, from various angles and with various approaches, for more than a decade- arguably, since high school, which is distressingly more than two decades ago. It was written, first word to last, during November as part of National Novel Writing Month, and has been edited and copyread for all of December. Hopefully, all errors have been expunged- however, I am confident, given the nature of my mind and of Murphy's Law, a few probably still slipped through.
I don't expect anyone to buy it- that is, I won't be disappointed if anyone reading this can't afford it, or doesn't feel like it, or whatever. We can't buy everything, despite my efforts to do so. It may not be your cup of tea. It may not be any good- I don't know. I'm reminded of Dave Barry's dictum that after a while, you are so sick of your own book that it's like a repulsive insect that everyone keeps insisting that you pet. (Fair warning- there are adult scenes in the book, though hardly explicit ones. I can't imagine anyone reading my blog is easily offended, however.)
But it's done- it's out there in the world, and out of my head. If you do buy it, bless you and thank you. I hope you like it. Feel free to give me feedback, here or via email. If you don't, I'm sure you will be in the vast majority. I assure you I am not getting rich on this project- if everyone who's ever looked at my blog buys a copy, I may be able to afford an IPad. But I'm not exactly heading down to my BMW dealership, if you catch my drift.
The book, as I say, is a love story. I have been writing it, from various angles and with various approaches, for more than a decade- arguably, since high school, which is distressingly more than two decades ago. It was written, first word to last, during November as part of National Novel Writing Month, and has been edited and copyread for all of December. Hopefully, all errors have been expunged- however, I am confident, given the nature of my mind and of Murphy's Law, a few probably still slipped through.
I don't expect anyone to buy it- that is, I won't be disappointed if anyone reading this can't afford it, or doesn't feel like it, or whatever. We can't buy everything, despite my efforts to do so. It may not be your cup of tea. It may not be any good- I don't know. I'm reminded of Dave Barry's dictum that after a while, you are so sick of your own book that it's like a repulsive insect that everyone keeps insisting that you pet. (Fair warning- there are adult scenes in the book, though hardly explicit ones. I can't imagine anyone reading my blog is easily offended, however.)
But it's done- it's out there in the world, and out of my head. If you do buy it, bless you and thank you. I hope you like it. Feel free to give me feedback, here or via email. If you don't, I'm sure you will be in the vast majority. I assure you I am not getting rich on this project- if everyone who's ever looked at my blog buys a copy, I may be able to afford an IPad. But I'm not exactly heading down to my BMW dealership, if you catch my drift.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Words Fail Us All
By now, everyone has heard about the horrible, tragic events in Arizona involving multiple shootings involving a Congresswoman, a Federal judge, and a 9 year old girl, among others, in front of a grocery store. Twitter and Facebook are all abuzz, some decrying harsh rhetoric, others complaining about "politicizing" a human tragedy. There are bucketloads of blame, of course, to hand out here- to the shooter, of course, most of all, and to any comrades or fellow travelers who encouraged or flamed his delusions, and to the society that failed a mentally ill person and sold him a gun.
I am a free speech absolutist. I do not believe horrible, violent imagery should be banned, or censored, or kept off the public airwaves and bitstreams by any law or governmental decree. Longtime readers of this space will remember that I am prone to tortured metaphors, absurd suggestions, and long, run on sentences that carry on and on with no potential ending in sight. Like that one. I don't think I've ever advocated violence in this space, but honestly? I may have. If I did, I shouldn't have.
There are hundreds of thousands of words in the English language. If you oppose someone else's political views, vote against them. Take to the airwaves and the bitstreams- it's a free Internet- and make your case. Suggest their views are misguided, poorly thought out, with disastrous potential consequences. Be insulting, if that's what you feel you need to do- call them names, question their parentage, suggest they are dim bulbs who have trouble buttoning their shirts in the morning.
But, in the name of all that is good and decent, stop using violence. Stop suggesting it, stop appealing to it, stop making allusions to it. Just stop. Not because you have to, not because you're going to go to jail if you don't, not because I say so. Stop because you're ashamed of it. Stop because you don't want this to ever happen again.
"Violence, or the threat of violence, has no place in our Democracy, and I apologize for and repudiate any act or any thing in my past that may have even inadvertently encouraged violence. Because for whatever else each of us may be, we all are Americans."
I am a free speech absolutist. I do not believe horrible, violent imagery should be banned, or censored, or kept off the public airwaves and bitstreams by any law or governmental decree. Longtime readers of this space will remember that I am prone to tortured metaphors, absurd suggestions, and long, run on sentences that carry on and on with no potential ending in sight. Like that one. I don't think I've ever advocated violence in this space, but honestly? I may have. If I did, I shouldn't have.
There are hundreds of thousands of words in the English language. If you oppose someone else's political views, vote against them. Take to the airwaves and the bitstreams- it's a free Internet- and make your case. Suggest their views are misguided, poorly thought out, with disastrous potential consequences. Be insulting, if that's what you feel you need to do- call them names, question their parentage, suggest they are dim bulbs who have trouble buttoning their shirts in the morning.
But, in the name of all that is good and decent, stop using violence. Stop suggesting it, stop appealing to it, stop making allusions to it. Just stop. Not because you have to, not because you're going to go to jail if you don't, not because I say so. Stop because you're ashamed of it. Stop because you don't want this to ever happen again.
"Violence, or the threat of violence, has no place in our Democracy, and I apologize for and repudiate any act or any thing in my past that may have even inadvertently encouraged violence. Because for whatever else each of us may be, we all are Americans."
Friday, January 07, 2011
Wise Words
“Give up on yourself. Begin taking action now, while being neurotic or imperfect, or a procrastinator, or unhealthy, or lazy, or any other label by which you inaccurately describe yourself. Go ahead and be the best imperfect person you can be and get started on those things you want to accomplish before you die.”
-Shoma Morita
(h/t Andrew Sullivan, who got it from Oliver Burkeman, who, I assume, got it from Morita)
-Shoma Morita
(h/t Andrew Sullivan, who got it from Oliver Burkeman, who, I assume, got it from Morita)
Thursday, January 06, 2011
They Used To Call Tom Gordon "Flash"
But his attitude about flash fiction was unknown.
The 52/250 clock has rolled over again, and my story for this week's theme, "Floating Away", is here
The 52/250 clock has rolled over again, and my story for this week's theme, "Floating Away", is here
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
A Violent 100: "He Wouldn't Dare"
Velvet Verbosity is the progenitor of the 100 Word Challenge- accept no imitations! This week's word is "Stabbed", and my contribution is called "He Wouldn't Dare"
"Stabbed", she thought. You often hear it in reference to something else- "my headache feels like I'm being stabbed in the eye", or "I have these stabbing pains in my back". But that's not really right. Nothing feels like being stabbed. There's the pain. But there's the wrongness of it, also- it feels unusual, and vaguely not real- an experience far outside what you usually feel.
She looked at the handle of the knife, sticking out of her belly, then up at Roger. He had said he would, and he looked surprised that he actually had.
"Stabbed", she thought. You often hear it in reference to something else- "my headache feels like I'm being stabbed in the eye", or "I have these stabbing pains in my back". But that's not really right. Nothing feels like being stabbed. There's the pain. But there's the wrongness of it, also- it feels unusual, and vaguely not real- an experience far outside what you usually feel.
She looked at the handle of the knife, sticking out of her belly, then up at Roger. He had said he would, and he looked surprised that he actually had.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
It's All About Flash
The fine folks at the 52/250 Flash have compiled another quarterly review, which contains a contribution from yours truly located here
Monday, January 03, 2011
Sunday, January 02, 2011
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