I have a story in this called “His Name is Love,” based on the Stephen King story, “The Man Who Loved Flowers.”
Here is an excerpt.
I’ve been asked to dinner a lot. I reek of dead flowers. I like men, even after everything that’s happened. I mean I like women more, but I don’t see myself in that way. I want to take off my face, have a nap. I always want to nap. Sometimes I want to nap forever, lie curled up on a bed of petals and just go to sleep, dream that I’ve remembered my name. But that’s just guilt talking. Dusk isn’t a good time for any of us.
Now go and subscribe to Unnnerving. It’s killer.
I love change. When time is short I squander it well. The new blog format should be up and running in no time
Record sales in horror fiction, according to the Daily Telegraph? Thank you Stranger Things, Andy Muschietti’s film adaptation of Stephen King’s It? And maybe a bunch of other factors too. Like this, from Alexander Gordon Smith, over at Tor.com:
Horror makes us children again, in the best possible way. We’re incredibly resilient when we’re kids, because our imaginations are so vast, so powerful. They cannot be defeated. When we go through bad things, we have the emotional intelligence to recover, because we know that anything can happen. If there can be monsters under the bed then there can be miracles, too.
Or, in my twisted take on horror’s weirdness over at LitReactor:
All these stories instill a kind of terror in the reader, but the kind of terror where the fever dream is not so much to defeat It, as to see It, touch It. Make It stick. Because without It, what are we?
Vale Harlan Ellison. You mattered to me. I included his 1965 story, “Repent Harlequin, said the Ticktock Man” in my favorite dystopian stories over at LitReactor.
Speaking of LitReactor, Peter Derk’s Cormac McCarthy birthday tribute is pretty cool. This one took me way, way down the rabbit hole.
One day I’d like to put together an anthology of twenty (or a hundred) perfect fantastical tales. “Singing My Sister Down” by Margo Lanagan (Black Juice), will be in there for sure. I reached out to Ms Lanagan a couple years back after staring at this story in the VanderMeer Weird Compendium and just staring at it and thinking how it changed me. I found out we lived in neighboring suburbs of Sydney. And now, here we are, and she’s going to be introducing Aletheia at its Aussie launch. Kind of hard to get my head around how cool it is.
And then a couple days later I shoot down to Melbourne for my very first Continuum, where I’ll be on the some panels and a reading on Sunday morning. Here are my slots.
Saturday 10th June
3pm Secondary Worlds in Weird Fiction
J.S. Breukelaar, Kat Clay, Michelle Goldsmith, Stephanie Lai
4pm Genre Conventions
J.S. Breukelaar, Earl Livings, Jason Franks, Laura E Goodin, Likhain
Sunday 11th June
Corey White,Michael Pryor, J.S. Breukelaar.
In September I’ll be appearing at Conflux 13 in Canberra, and later in year at World Fantasy Convention in Austin, TX – more info on those last two as I get it.
Doing everything I can to get my collection edited and off to pub by end June. That’s out in October.
Last Friday was release day for Aletheia. Seemed like it would never happen and then when it did, it felt like I always mostly knew it would. I hugged a bunch of folks in the book’s acknowledgments page, people who made the book both necessary and possible either in terms of what they mean to me, or what they did to get the book into shape, and often both. Right off the bat now and always, there’s Matthew Bialer, best agent in the world, period, and also Joe Mynhardt from Crystal Lake Publishing, who took on this big project and kept it on track and who is yawping it from the rooftops with all the barbaric power of the independent publishing groundswell carrying so many of us hysterically uncategorizable authors into hearts and minds. And my family, John, Jack, Isabella and Troy—they also get to see their names twice. And they also know why.
And to get the ball rolling, here’s a review by WC Marchese, over at Unnerving Magazine
‘… like Sons of Anarchy mixed with a sprinkle of Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman’
I’ll take it!
Thank you to the talented author Chris Kelso for having me on his blog, Words from the Wise, where I talk about that of which I know nothing.
The first review copies of my new novel Aletheia are available from Crystal Lake Publishing. Contact them, or me, if you’d like an advance read.
Here’s a taste:
Nose Island was a glacial booger sneezed up by Funes Lake, five miles to the north of town. Most people you asked swore that it had always been there—first an Iroquois graveyard, then a potters’ field, leprosarium, orphanage, or toxic dumping ground during the Eerie heyday—but how and when it came into the Zabriskie family no one exactly knew. Some said a poker game gone sour, others said a favor owed or interest paid on some unimaginable debt—there was even talk of a curse. Over time, subsidence and falling water levels created treacherous structural currents around most of its perimeter—the lake-effect weather that was a feature of the area, along with various other environmental anomalies meant the island itself was mostly invisible and all but inaccessible. Being private property, of course, no one had set foot on it for decades.
Or if they had, they couldn’t remember.
I have an essay on writing place, in this craft omnibus, Writers on Writing, titled “I Am Setting.”
In great company, with contributors such as Kevin Lucia, Tim Waggoner, Lucy A. Snyder, Jasper Bark, Mercedes Murdock Yardley and many more. Available in the usual formats. Always appreciate any reviews or comments on Goodreads/Amazon.
Thanks to the good people at Crystal Lake Publishing.
Revealing Ben Baldwin’s final cover art for Aletheia, out soon from Crystal Lake Publishing.
Pretty much one of the most gorgeous covers I’ve seen, still can’t believe it’s mine. Thanks to Joe Mynhardt from Crystal lake for setting this up.
In other news, just found out I’m on the Weird Fiction panel at World Fantasy Con in Columbus, Ohio with two of my heroes – Ellen Datlow and Michael Kelly. Unfortunately won’t have the actual book to flaunt—copies won’t quite be ready yet—but I’ll be reading from it anyway.
I’ll be teaching weirdness over at LitReactor again soon. August 30. Spaces left—hope to see you there.
Three of my students that I know of have sold their stories from the class. Here’s some hype:
[This] LitReactor class was unforeseeably phenomenal… It’s the most I’ve ever learnt in a writing class, and if all LitReactor classes are as genuinely relevant and engaging as that, then they might be on to some kind of creative revolution.” —Emila B.