My uncle and aunt drive us down to the launch and they are there in the back with my husband and cousin – sirens and choppers overhead as soon as I start to read – I’m last. I talk about the Proctor Valley monster with Lizz Huerta after the reading. She grew up with it. Everyone was too scared to go out on Proctor Valley Road after dark, she said. They knew it was out there.
My review of Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories is over at LitReactor. Neat collection, lots of stories and images that linger. Couldn’t really name a favorite, because of the breadth of styles and subject matter, loosely connected around the idea of naked souls bared to elements not always of this world, but I have to say…
Writing this post for David Gutowski’s Largehearted Boy was as close to my heart as it gets. I got to write about the music that fueled Collision. I got to say “Like a Bat out of Hell” and “Like Ripples on a Blank Shore” in the one sentence, almost. Meatloaf in collision with Radiohead. Almost…
Exciting to have a new story in this called “Going Down,” along with some fine company like Nancy Collins, Nicki Guerlain and a bunch of others. Thanks again to editor Deb Hoag and the reckless folk at Doghorn Press.
Bring me your dreams and your nightmares, your broken bunnies and inflatable friends, your pocket universes and hero’s gurneys and sentence fragments and eldritch ellipses. I promise to make you uncomfortable. Still time to sign up.
I wrote a piece on rejection inspired by a student who has, by way of their first rejection slip, joined our family of the damned. You can read it at Vol.1.Brooklyn, a great little lit mag taking lollipop steps all over the intersphere. For TW and RN.
J.W. Wang, Zack Wentz, Cameron Pierce, John Joseph Adams, Seb Doubinsky, Deb Hoag… the list goes on and most of these people are award winning writers, poets, anthologists themselves, but they do that extra thing, they read. They lead by example. Without which this revolution, this whole movement, would not be happening.
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