News, publications and blog for the author of AM/PM (Featherproof Books) and Museum of the Weird (FC2).
In Tucson. Last night we hung out with Spork makers Andrea and Drew. A thunderstorm surrounded us and we ate lemon ice. Aaron and I are heading out in a couple hours, after sourdough pancakes. This home is my home.
We set up a Twitter. I got an interview up at Black Heart. Sass in the grass. Looking forward to seeing Lindsay and friends up the coast.
Black Heart Magazine named me one of the top 5 emerging writers under 40. Click here to see me straight up looking like an elementary school librarian between sexy ladies AV Flox and Gillian Sze. Man, 41 year olds are EATING IT this season.
Another cool thing happened: India Menninghaus wrote a review of AM/PM that ended up in the School of the Art Institute of Chicago paper. Check out the larger size of the image to see the hand-lettering from India. And look at her site. Maybe if you’re sweet to her, she’ll send you a handwritten letter.
I keep forgetting to mention it but now I will, speaking of reviews, if you or someone you love would like a review copy of my book, to review, for a place that runs reviews, please drop me a line via that “Contact” link above. I promise I won’t write a crazy 1,500 word rebuttal if this action results in a bad review. Or will I? (Yes.)
As the President of Hot Dogs I’m obliged to say that I ate a hot dog in New York and it was okay. It was at Gray’s Papaya and it burned the flesh at the back of my mouth. There were tanks behind the men that looked like the type that serves those nasty daiquiris in New Orleans, so I felt hungover, though I was not hungover. Get it together, Gray’s Papaya.
I had a dream that I found a bullet on the ground and brought it to the police, and everyone was mad that I had picked it up. It was a spent slug. Then I dreamed I was in Singapore, but Singapore was simultaneously a pirate ship and a pirate-ship-themed restaurant, and I kept walking up flights of stairs and moving past higher and higher levels of diners until I reached the crow’s nest, which was also a small table. It had the best view of the water and the people shooting at each other on the deck.
Life is one extended game of Oregon Trail and we have full power to choose the members of our traveling party. I’m glad to have someone in my wagon who can eradicate the viruses from my computer after I’ve downloaded too much Madonna. Our hearts are light, our machines clean. Onward!
On Saturday I was a lucky duck to have three smart and talented ladies in my Dzanc Day workshop. We sat around the fireplace in Mary Sledd‘s lovely new studio and drank mimosas and talked about dialogue and openings and working through the block. Thanks to Brittany, Lesley, and Sarah for being wonderful and showing me your work. Thanks also to Dzanc for putting it together across the country.
SXSW happened. I was happy happy to make it down south to see Trespassers William play music so beautiful it put me into a trance. The woman sitting next to me on the couch was under the same spell. She kept saying “Yes” real quiet.
Zach and Ally visited from Chicago, Autumn from NYC. Good finds this year included The Middle East, Free Energy, Lisse, and Givers. I was happy to see The Low Anthem shine in a smaller venue. The Gary rocked their brunch show. Ally and I watched a guitar girl while we sat on chairs like old ladies. Mary and I walked through a dark neighborhood until we found a stage set up in someone’s backyard, accordions and violins backing pretty singers for a crowd of 75 or so.
Tyson’s Whiskey Rebellion was excellent. I had the honor of reading with Tyson as well as Bill Cotter, James Hannaham, Stephen Elliott. Feeling kind of overwhelmed just thinking about it. A band of young men called The Shake played and some homeless ladies jumped over a wall. It was a fine week in total! Back to work in the morning.
You should read Kyle Minor’s story The Truth and All Its Ugly, for it is heartache in paragraph form. Beautiful work.
And lastly: a kind review of AM/PM over at Broken Pencil. Thanks very much to Jack Cena for the consideration.
Everybody’s favorite Mary Hamilton won Rose Metal Press’ chapbook contest with her short short collection WE KNOW WHAT WE ARE. That finalist and semi-finalist list is quite the list. I can’t wait to see Mary’s work in lovely RMP style.
This summer I contributed to the playlist up at Wigleaf and forgot about it until it was posted today. And. My book release date got pushed up to August or September.
who's there
Also the winners of the Five Things contest A New Year are posted over there. I’m looking forward to the show. I don’t know who most of these people are. And. I made a poster.
Kim Parko’s incredible Cure All is out at Caketrain. Of it I wrote, “To call these pieces unique isn’t enough. With her fractured shards of advice, sweet little nightmares, tunneled eyes and sprouted scales, Kim Parko presents a twisting puzzle of fire blights and lonely spines. This book will crawl into your house.” It’s weird that it’s only $8.
there were four glasses of water
Now I am home. In Dallas I met fellow readers Will Clarke, Willy Razavi, and Katherine Center, plus Todd Zuniga and judges Ben Fountain and Tina Parker. (I already knew Owen but what the heck I’m on a linking frenzy.) I did not win (the rightful honor went to Will Clarke) but had a wonderful time regardless at the reading, dinner after that, and more good talks after that.
We accidentally checked out the Dallas club scene, which involves a girl lying on the ground and asking her boyfriend if he thinks she is hot. Boyfriend hefts her up, says “You are hot and I am going to need you to shut the fuck up.” This story is not about me.
I got up early and stood by the window drinking water. From the 20th floor of the Adolphus I saw that officers had closed off the streets below. Three horses stood in the center of the square and I was not sure if they were the attraction or merely backup.
While reading about the hotel—this was the kind of hotel you read about, or at least take its stationary—I learned that the old 19th floor ballroom had been stripped of its floors and sealed off permanently, accessible in two places: either by the roof, or by an unmarked door in an undisclosed location. I went exploring and found the door. It was a knowledge adventure and I was on Team Discovery. There was a padlock that wouldn’t budge with a few tugs so I went downstairs and had breakfast. Later I found some pictures. One neat thing is that there are rivets and not welds on the old beams.
After that I hung out with a baby and watched the Cardinals get creamed and spread on toast by the Saints. So ended my Dallas adventure. Thanks to Katie and Carolyn at the DMOA for hosting and helping, to Todd for inviting me, to the City of Dallas, and to whoever came up with the idea for the cinnamon roll.
