I realized, like a week ago, that there's a whole new decade coming up. I was born in 1980, which means I get to start my own new decade, too.
This is a recollection of a recollection. My understanding of a family folk tale about the Old Country.
This is a story about a dream, or a memory of a dream. It was published years ago at another ghost town called Slingshot. I think these pieces leant themselves very well to the the kind of online writing that was emerging in the late 00's. It's a shame so many of those venues, many … Continue reading So We Had a Wake
Another early piece. This was published at elimae when Cooper Renner was the editor. It was a very good journal. This story is 100 words long. Evensong Thaddeus, age 3, set the Evensong in shallow water. Small waves rose and fell, and, retreating, carried Thad's small ship further from the shore. Squealing and on pigeon … Continue reading Evensong
Doogie Howser was the first person I ever saw use a computer as a journal. Ricky from Silver Spoons was the first person I ever saw IMing with his crush. Gains today: Quite a few words written. A few stories read. I reread "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" for the first time in many, many years. … Continue reading The Doogie Howser Portion of the Evening
The Lantern piece, which you can find here, was written a few years before I got to Ursinus. I was about 16, broken-hearted, and listening to a shit-ton of Beck.
Today I finished The Crying of Lot 49. There are a few recent posts here about the themes of communication, miracle, and entropy, and of the imagery of the muted horn. Also read today: "How to Hear a Stutter" by Adam Giannelli in the latest Kenyon Review. A few lines really stood out. I won't … Continue reading Post Horns, Everywhere, Unmuted