Monthly Archives: September 2011

“The Fireline” is up at Flash Fiction Offensive

“The Fireline” is a story I originally wrote four or five years ago.  I was reading a lot of Freud and Marcuse at the time and the piece ballooned to a linked 10,000 word long story, and went nowhere.  A couple months ago, I take a hack-axe to it and came up with the 1000 or words you’re going to go click to right now (right?)  Convenient clickable linky 

A preview:

“We’re going to do it,” Silas said. “With or without your say-so.”

Pa scrabbled down the roof and leaped off the eave, coming up spry as a jackrabbit. He strode within a pace of them. The boys stepped back.

“Is it true, Lord?” Pa said. “Did I raise up a pack of back-talking hellions?”

Convenient linky, repeated

"The Fireline" is up at Flash Fiction Offensive

“The Fireline” is a story I originally wrote four or five years ago.  I was reading a lot of Freud and Marcuse at the time and the piece ballooned to a linked 10,000 word long story, and went nowhere.  A couple months ago, I take a hack-axe to it and came up with the 1000 or words you’re going to go click to right now (right?)  Convenient clickable linky 

A preview:

“We’re going to do it,” Silas said. “With or without your say-so.”

Pa scrabbled down the roof and leaped off the eave, coming up spry as a jackrabbit. He strode within a pace of them. The boys stepped back.

“Is it true, Lord?” Pa said. “Did I raise up a pack of back-talking hellions?”

Convenient linky, repeated

Rejections #246 – 248 – A-Minor puts honesty above palhood, A Public Space pushes me to some negative progress, Fiddleblack form rejects

You’ve probably heard the old saw that you need friends to get published.  I’m here today to disprove that theory.  My pal Nicolette Wong, who often comments around here and is the new editor over at A-Minor, summarily rejected an experimental piece of mine, which I thought would be perfect for her, which I sent to her for that reason, especially after it had been rejected numerous time elsewhere.

Here’s what Nicolette had to say: “I appreciate the chance to read this piece. Unfortunately it’s not a snug fit for the zine. The story is there, but right now it’s not very sharp – it seems somewhat clogged by the writing.”

Nicolette put her aesthetic judgement above our netfriendship, and I am much appreciative.  Even if it meant another rejection on the pile.  Honesty’s the main fuel most lit mags run on.

The Literary Rejection Wiki informs me that I got a higher-tiered rejection for a piece, one that runs thusly: “Thank you for thinking of A Public Space for your writing. We aren’t the right magazine for this work, but we read it with care and interest, and we encourage you to send new work later this year.”

This is the same piece that’s been higher-tiered rejected at the New Yorker & the Boston Review and a couple others, and got a nice personal rejection from Shenandoah.  Negative progress, people.

Fiddleblack enjoyed reading my work &c.

WYO-NEB game day in pictures

Pregame hiking at Vedauwoo in the Medicine Bow National Forest

The group, sans my dad.

Lunch.

Approaching War Memorial Stadium, aka "The War," in Laramie.

Husker haters.

Pre game warmups. #4 there is Lavonte David, linebacker All-American and future millionaire.

Defensive line behemoths.

More Husker haters.

The mighty Husks run on the field.

Game time.

Happy Huskers.

I called 38-13. Close enough.

From the Laramie Wal-mart – Go Big Red!

UPDATE: Someone who works for Coca-Cola in Wyoming reports that this is a real picture.  Awesome.

Couple students told me I need to get rid of that Nebraska hat when I came in the building this morning.  I soldier on.  I will not be deterred!

This Saturday, Nebraska vs. Wyoming.  I’ll be there.

I don’t know if this picture is real, and I don’t care.  Supposedly taken at the Laramie Wal-Mart – GBR!

My prediction, since you asked: NEB 48 – WYO 13

More anti-Nebraska belligerence

Dropped the scionness off at preschool this morning before my morning run dressed, of course, in red Nebraska cap and red Nebraska sweatshirt.  The teacher said, “What’s all this Nebraska stuff?”

I told her it was so we’d have something to discuss about results next week.  I feel pretty satisfied with that.

I’ll continue to heroically make my way through this frothing sea of anti-Nebraska belligerence, doing my God-given duty to support the Big Red.

Speaking of, I hope this guy will be at game this weekend:

Pancho Villa approves this photo.

It’s Nebraska week and tensions are running high here in Wyoming

You know where to find me on Saturday.

This week, of course, marks the first – and likely very last – time the sweet Husks will travel to Laramie.  I’m going.  My little brothers are flying in from Washington state and New York, respectively, to go along, as is one spouse, our dad, and one friend.

Tensions are running high here in Wyoming.  This afternoon I was walking to work wearing, as always, my red Nebraska cap, when some old guy sprayed me (well, sent a couple drops in my direction) with his garden hose.

“Hey,” he said, “what are you doing with that hat on?”

I failed to come up with a properly pithy response.  Since I imagine that this will happen again in some form this week, if you’ve got a good response, please post in the comments so I can use it next time.

And this will be the view.

I’ll keep you updated on other assaults to my person, as well as my heroic slogging on in the Scarlet & Cream, as the week wears on.

Go Big Red.

 

It's Nebraska week and tensions are running high here in Wyoming

You know where to find me on Saturday.

This week, of course, marks the first – and likely very last – time the sweet Husks will travel to Laramie.  I’m going.  My little brothers are flying in from Washington state and New York, respectively, to go along, as is one spouse, our dad, and one friend.

Tensions are running high here in Wyoming.  This afternoon I was walking to work wearing, as always, my red Nebraska cap, when some old guy sprayed me (well, sent a couple drops in my direction) with his garden hose.

“Hey,” he said, “what are you doing with that hat on?”

I failed to come up with a properly pithy response.  Since I imagine that this will happen again in some form this week, if you’ve got a good response, please post in the comments so I can use it next time.

And this will be the view.

I’ll keep you updated on other assaults to my person, as well as my heroic slogging on in the Scarlet & Cream, as the week wears on.

Go Big Red.

 

I assault PANK with crank-fueled crime

Finally, finally, finally my story in PANK has gone live.  You’ll recall that PANK rejected six other stories before taking The Cloud Factory.  I am grateful to Roxane Gay and Brad Green for agreeing that this story was up to snuff.

This story is important to me in another way, too – with this story I really, really began telling stories again.  Which is to say, putting story before pretty sentences.  Judge for yourself if you think it works out.  You can’t comment over at PANK so please feel free to comment here, if you’d like.

A preview:

Jimmy brought nothing but a duffel bag.  He strapped the bag in the bed of my decrepit Chevy.

“My last ride,” he said climbing in the cab.  “You’re riding home alone, Gary.”

“You serious?” I said.

“As a house fire.  Take me to the bus depot.”

I pulled away from the dirt alley onto the street.