I have a piece out in Le Zaparogue #9, an excerpt from Blue Moves. Very proud to be in such good company and utterly thrilled to have a collection coming out soon with this classy imprint.
Due to a confluence of circumstance, I taught every day and every night this week, either live or online. Summer ends here in a screaming frenzy of cicadas under a 40 degree Celsius sun and nights too hot and too still to mention. Lie there and hope for morning. Last night I finally fell asleep…
Bang on time, too. And we’re off and running.
I’ve been busy with things. The teaching, and I have stuff to read for other people. Writing for the Nervous Breakdown and for Clarion. I have a birthday coming up which fills me with both anticipation and dread. I haven’t been writing all that hard, have let the narrative threads for the novel unravel. Am becoming aware of what I have taken on again.
There are good days and not so good days. Nights of little sleep. Dreams, like the one last night, of a great tidal wave in the distance, in the future, and its devastation—flotsam and broken toys and scraps and terror already in the past, lapping at my feet.
Today I will weave a dream. A digital bridge to take me from here to there. Murky sludge of the true-facts world far below.
Here me roar.
A story to send to PS, tweaking it now. A short coming out on Thursday at Opium Magazine. The wonderful Seb Doubinksy prepping the December Zap which will include at least one piece by moi, probably Blue Moves. Another article to write for The Nervous Breakdown, plus wonderful stuff from friends to read, read, read.
It has been a month of firsts in a year of firsts. Last week, I was interviewed for the first time ever, an out-of-body experience if there ever was one, so watch this space; I sent off my first collection of shorts to the sublime and savvy Le Zaparogue, got my first cover art, and…