A great big thank you from me to Rum Punch Press who have nominated my story “Bruiser” for a Pushcart Prize.
You can read “Bruiser” – a heartwarming story about a lost boy and a stolen dog getting together to bond over a little lucha, right here.
There is a school of thought out there that one should never make much of nominations, only wins, but in this business – where we mostly work for praise – a nomination is always appreciated – and I appreciate it.
Factoid that may interest only me: I got the title from the Misfits song “Bruiser” because some wrestler who I could remember specifically used to use that song as his “walk-out” song. That said I don’t reference the song at all in the story. In fact I listened more to Fear’s “I Don’t Care About You” obsessively while writing the story. It had the right “Tone.” “I don’t Care About You” has been covered a thousand times, fairly ably by both GnR and (without profanity, apparently to please the BBC) Soundgarden.
I’m going to go listen to it now and you should too!
PS: Wish me luck – this is my second Pushie Nom (“All of the Words to All of the Songs” was nominated last year but didn’t make the cut) and it would be nice to see “Bruiser” make it into the anthology.
I have a trio of poems up at Wax Poetry and Art, namely:
- The Crow (Culling Song #2)
- That’s Why The Hornet Stung Me
- Bury Me Face Down
You can read them Here
I think it’s high time y’all took a break from perusing the non-stop airing of electoral grievances (or conversely: overly smug celebration) on social media and read some sweet, sweet, poesy.
As an aside, I’m not really a poet – I’m a prosodist. Smart-assery aside I have never studied formal poetry and can’t tell you what dactylic hexameter or is or what constitutes a sestina. I admire those who can, but it ain’t me. My “poetry” is free verse (poetry that does not rhyme,) and more along the lines of quiet observational prose written out short.
At any rate, read and enjoy. I’ll be back before the end times.
I have a short erotic romance up in the “Ever Dream of Me” anthology available from Fantasia Divinity Publishing. You can find it at Amazon right Here.
As far as Erotic Romance goes this one is a slightly Lovecraft-ian in tone – it’s kind of a lesbian awakening/mild foot-fetish/nameless horror undulating in the dark piece. No tentacles though – not that there is anything wrong with that – it’s just not what I do.
So if US presidential politics has you down (or, perhaps, in a mood to celebrate depending on your personal viewpoint – which we never judge here at Half-Wit Lit) draw yourself a nice bath, pour some Dr. Zen Zen into a nicely chilled glass, light a candle or four, and enjoy the story.
I’d like to thank editor/publisher Madeline Stout for accepting the piece and bringing it out – it was a an honor.
OK peeps, I’m off to write.
Y’all stay young and cool.
My zombie apocalypse piece “Winona in the Window” is up at Amazon today courtesy bards & Sages Publishing’s ‘Society of Misfit Stories’ run. You can get it Here. It’s a 0.99 download for you Kindle-types (or those who have a Kindle Reader) or free to KindleUnlimited subscribers.
In regards to the story itself – When the Zombie apocalypse comes (and it will, oh yes, it will,) get a dog and don’t trust the people. There is also some exposition on why the .357 Magnum might be the best sidearm for the end of days.
Much thanks to the hard-working crew at Bards and Sages for their efforts in getting ‘Winona’ out to the world – and I am very pleased with the Día de Muertos release!
Stay frosty comrades, and don’t feel bad about your post-Halloween candy induced diabetic coma. You have to live a little right?
My poem “Culling Song” is up in Yellow Chair Review’s Annual horror issue – you can read it Here.
A “Culling Song” is a colloquial rhyme, chant, or incantation that, when spoken aloud, kills the listener. I’ve seen it referred to as being either African or Mesopotamian in origin. However, I wonder if the above isn’t just some bit of web-manufactured provenance – the first time I ever heard of a “Culling Song” was in Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Lullaby. So there you have it.
History (real or manufactured) aside, the idea of a “culling song” is inspirational for poets … and it’s that time of year when poetry journals have their horror issues up and live.
As an aside, the “author bio” I came up with for this piece/issue was probably the finest thing I have ever written. Much thanks to the Editors @ YCR for affording me the opportunities that they have.
For those of you planning on handing out treats this year … I like Snickers and I like shots of Grand Marnier.
I’ll be back with more publishing news over the next few days.
*Disclaimer: Read my poem, let me know what you think, but should you speak it aloud you are on your own. I accept no responsibility for what may happen!
I’ve got a couple of prose-poems up at The Yellow Chair Review for you – namely “Raised on the Farm” and “Astarte Dreams of Fire and Stars That Fall Like Snow (The Prophet of Regret #8).
You can read them Here
This is my third appearance in Yellow Chair Review – I had a piece in issue #6 (March 2016) called “The Wild Girls Sing” and I “Rocked the Chair” ( a weekly poetry challenge put on by YCR) with “There Have Been others” in February 14, 2016. I’ll also have another piece come out in their October “Hallowe’en Issue” run.
There a number of other excellent pieces in this issue – I’d like to throw out a cyber high-five to Minkee Robinson for her vignette “Porcelain Dolls” (read it here.) Kudos to the crew at YCR – they are doing good work.
Later Gators, I’m slaving away on more fiction. As for you guys? You know the drill: Stay frosty. Go Raiders.
In case you have ever wondered if it is legal to scatter your friend’s ashes in a national park I have a new story up at http://www.acrossthemargin.com for you – it’s called “Cold Enough to See Our Breath”
You can read it Here
Much thanks to editor Michael Shields and the crew at AtM.
In spite of the title to the piece it’s blisteringly hot here – fat-kid killing hot as they say, and I could use a little cool.
So, stay cool.