Bibloautobiography

Bibloautobiography

Writer A writes novels about attractive, pensive thirty-year-old women struggling to maintain their dignity within an antiquated police force while solving obtuse murders. Writer B writes poetry. Writer 3 writes close-to-the-bone vignettes concerning young men wrestling with the realities of growing up, often packaged within fishing and football metaphors. Writer H writes narratives of the … Continue reading

The Red Bird of Paradise Lost

The Red Bird of Paradise Lost

Created for my new project, DarkMarkets’ Field Guide to Dark Fiction, which I probably shouldn’t tell you about until it’s finished, but I’m feeling impetuous. No relation to Milton. All images sampled for the digital collage are public domain, save for that awesome ax, which I very gratefully borrowed from Slasher Studios’ Don’t Go to … Continue reading

Tiny Blue Vials

Tiny Blue Vials

There’s nothing romantic in bottling tears; Lucina quickly finds this out. It’s a grueling task that results in sleepless nights, torturous pink eye, and a strange, rotten sea smell overtaking the apartment. Slow crying doesn’t cut it; she has to bawl for hours then scrape the tears off her cheek with a special spatula. It’s … Continue reading

Nocturnal Submissions

Nocturnal Submissions

I had a dream last night that I was applying for a writer job at Gawker. They called me a sycophant and set bees after me. (What did I expect? I wrote them an article about 6 Ways to Improve Your Summer Barbecue. I’d have sent bees after me, too.) Their HR Director was nice, though. … Continue reading

Cannibal in the Basement

Cannibal in the Basement

In what was more than just an overarching psychological metaphor, Franny fed the cannibal in the basement every Tuesday. (Now, Tuesday is not as mundane as one might think. Take, for example, the Great Asphalt Holocaust of ’72; that happened on a Tuesday. Also, the last Cannonball Famine and the St. Luby’s Day Waffle House … Continue reading

Yes, I’m Moving to Vegas.

Yes, I’m Moving to Vegas.

The Keach Nuclear Family Unit is venturing off into the wild unknowns of the neon-laced desert. What lies is store is a PhD in Anthropology (for daddy), scorpions to chase across a cactus-laced lawn (for baby), and a probable gambling addiction (for mommy.) I’ll write you when we get there, provided we survive Black Bart’s Cave at Casa … Continue reading

Top 10 Reasons Not to Give up Writing Altogether

Top 10 Reasons Not to Give up Writing Altogether

10. Suffering builds character. 9. The only thing that keeps your inner child company in the stark, desolate landscape of your soul is a hearty streak of emotional masochism. 8. Your talents would otherwise be spent making Lolcats. (Wait, maybe that’s a reason to give up writing altogether.) 7. Well, you need something to justify … Continue reading