bITS 'N CHUNKS
Well shipmates, it finally happened. I released my own chapbook.
I've been putting myself out there for ages doing editorial and fictional work, and I kept saying The Book was coming... and coming... and coming...
(It didn't come for about 10 years)
I've said previously I'm not as in love with the idea of the novel as many writers you know are, but make no mistake that putting together a coherent collection of smaller stories isn't THAT much easier. You, as the critic of You, is quite the... existential experience.
The journey was long, hard, a little weird, and had some windy twists like an Oasis feud, but ultimately I'm glad it's out. It's not really the need to see myself in print. It really is the fundamental need to share. I share my thoughts and stories here on this blog and elsewhere and that's just what I like to do. This was also the ultimate task for me in terms of patience and forcing myself to completion of a process rather than give up half way.
I've already detailed the depressing minutiae so I won't share that with y'all again (and especially if you don't follow my social media). Today, the arbitrary release date, we're just gonna celebrate.
So, what have we got here? 3 stories that go from comedic to cosmic horror real fast and sometimes within the same space. One I've posted here previously & was actually previously published, but extensively re-written (plus, that site is dead so it's o-kay). The other two were trial and error just kicking around. And yes, there is at least one wrestling reference because... it's me.
Click thru below, pay what you feel is right. 18+ thanks to descriptions of gore and violence, and sexual content. Welcome to the real me.
(Feels good to be back.)
Alternatively, click me if that button isn't visible!
Moving inside you when you seem asleep -
Influence all to step beyond the gate,
When you're slipping in preservative:
Hydroglyphic downed stones
Hydroglyphic downed stones
It is 10:58 PM central Saturday night; a plume of smoke so big & white crawls closer to me like a fucking bubblegum scented stranger that just stumbled out of a Victoria's Secret.
It's my own fault. I'm at an impromptu dance party outside and I decided to partake in the ambiance. I'm waiting for my last panel of the night - the entire weekend spent at MTAC - the dance is getting a little aggressive and out of control for my likes, as I'm still sober. There's a kitty lolita wearing kitten paws and she's going to regret sitting so close to spilled alcohol and poached cigarettes in just a few hours.
Welcome to the end of February just about. Things haven't been too popping lately around here, but as we get into the Spring season that will be changing.
FOR NOW, though, two February offerings if your Black History Month has been a lukewarm wet blanket like mine has.
Chatting about Orfeu Negro (Black Orpheus) for Global Comment
Finally, I've come BACK to Salty mag and I'm discussing creating spaces for queer folks of color with a couple of very special guests.
Back to doing the work!
Well shipmates, rather unexpectedly I have a brand new piece of unblemished fiction for you this year!
It's been quite a long time since I've entered the 36th Chamber of fiction publication, as I've bemoaned a few times in the past whilst I try to get my act together. Things are coming along pretty well but there are some things that just never change.
Submitted here for your approval is an anthology submission from last year that ultimately got the axe for length; I don't have any further plans for it as it stands so I'm passing on the savings to you. It's fanfiction so it's a little bit of a cheat in that regard Yes, I have an AO3 account but I'm kind of hiding from that right now. And as a fanfic it automatically warrants a NSFW warning.
Well, golly friends would you look at that - 2019 already! I'm not quite ready yet because I still have a little leftover biz from 2018 that I didn't quite get to. I'm hoping that if I do it now, I can still count it for last year. Like a fresh haircut, we don't really comment on new things until it's been 2 weeks at least. Right? Right.
Woven In's 2018 release Razzmatazz is that leftover biz. This album is so worth talking about that I regret not having my isht together long enough to do so. The last time I spoke about Woven In we were chatting aboutBossa Blanca -- at that point, the project was already easing away from the melancholic surf sounds found on Highs and Ultra Lows and previous EPs.
Razzmatazz sees Woven In comfortably in low-fi darkwave dance mode although the retro beachy elements are still there. It's just that the beach has closed up for good and we're just reminiscing on it at this point.
Mariah Fortune keeps up the themes of isolation and its accompanying loneliness and lost angst, but each song creates its own atmosphere here. Considering that most of the album is instrumental, that's something pretty fine right there. There's the freak out of "Gunmetal", the not-that-distant, relatable real life pain of "Hooptie" and "Jingle", the call out of "They Don't Want You to Live" (can a song with no words call anyone out? Yes.)
It's a very personal album, emotive and vulnerable like Ultra Lows with the cool sweep of Bossa Blanca, the definition of a transition. Quiet, wordless like keeping a secret or getting ready to scream -- later. When a band changes their signature sound up, I always think, "maybe this won't be my bag." It almost wasn't. But 2018 has shown me that I'll cry AND dance to anything. Count nothing out. Do yourself a favor.
Ia! If you've come this far, you're either looking for weird or you know you've found it...