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Coachella is upon me
This weekend, I’ll be attending a 3 day concert, one of the biggest and brightest in the country. The timing isn’t exactly ideal since we’ve got a half marathon to run the following weekend. I’ve been to Coachella once before, and the time it took for my body to recover from soreness, dehydration, and tireless traipsing around the desert took a solid 4 days. To add insult to injury, I’m not sure the hotel we’re cramming in to will have wi-fi or a computer I’ll be able to access. So here’s the deal: I’m going to bring a notepad with ...
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Physical Meaning of Geometrical Propositions
This post’s title comes from the first chapter of Einstein’s Relativity. I think this would be a great story title…too bad it’s already taken. So I stumbled upon an interesting magazine called Space Squid, which specializes in humorous speculative sci-fi stories. Even more interesting, they are from Austin, Texas. They seem to favor campy, wildly ridiculous concepts that are nevertheless well-written–so I thought I’d try my hand at that style of writing. This story doesn’t quite fit in with Space Squid’s aesthetic, but at any rate it’s an exercise in using a humorous voice with a somewhat sci-fi concept. April ...
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“During the night something like a miracle happened”
This is the first line of that time-honored classic, Jim the Boy. I’ve never read it, but I have it on good authority that it’s worth a read. Today’s story for the day is again a seven-liner. It involves a disfigured woman who’s been sliced from ear to ear. But contrary to what you may be thinking, the inspiration is not the Joker, but a Japanese folk-tale about a woman named Kuchisake-onna. My story actually has very little to do with the legend, I just used the image of the woman as a starting point–and my story takes a few ...
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Sufficiently death matched
So yesterday I competed in a Literary Death Match, an international reading series put on by Opium Magazine (based in Brooklyn) and Dime Stories here in San Diego. The event was a blast. Lots of good readers, and like all readings I participate in, I took home a lot of great ideas as well as some practical needs I should address in my own performances. Reading a story (particularly your own) is an art unto itself. It’s rare to find the serious writer who can deliver a dynamite reading (well, maybe not that rare, but those people are usually famous). ...
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“I was born in the city of Bombay… once upon a time”
This first-liner comes from Salman Rushdie’s novel Midnight’s Children, a book I’ve not read yet but would like to soon. Another benefit of cranking out stories a such a rapid rate is that I’m learning things about myself as a writer. For example, many of the problems in my stories focus on death or illness. I tend to use children a lot, even if it’s not a kid’s story–I also tend to write exotic animals into my stories, though not so much lately. And though I recognize that I keep circling the same core issues and subjects, I don’t seem ...
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“It was love at first site.”
The title of day’s post is the first line of Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Although a little belated, this is yesterday’s story. Today’s story is forthcoming. April 11
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The first state of man after death
Emmanual Swedenborg, in his book, Heaven and it’s Wonders and Hell, says (in the chapter sharing the same name as this blog post): There are three states that man passes through after death before he enters either heaven or hell. The first state is the state of his exteriors, the second state the state of his interiors, and the third his state of preparation. These states man passes through in the world of spirits. Swedenborg isn’t always easy to understand. But somehow this seems appropriate to the subject matter of today’s story. April 10 — Mortal Sin
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“An extraordinary thing happened today.”
Today’s submission is probably the most bizarre yet. So you’ve been warned. I thought it appropriate to quote, as the title of this post, the first line from Nikolai Gogol’s short story “The Diary of a Madman.” I don’t know what to say about this story, except that it’s another exercise in the absurd. I recently learned about a relatively new genre called bizarro fiction. For Superman or Sienfeld buffs, this term isn’t anything new. But in the world of fiction it’s a kind of hybrid between surrealism and genre sci-fi. Wikipedia says: “While works of Bizarro may have literary ...
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“Whan that Aprill with his shoures sote”
This is the first line of the prologue to the Canterbury Tales. Roughly, it means “When that April, with his sweet showers.” So this is the first day I’ve really let this story-writing slip away from me. I’ve had a bit of a block today for some reason. I sat at my desk for two hours and came up with nothing. Then I decided to do other work so it wouldn’t be a waste of a day. Then we went to Hodad’s in Ocean Beach for a burger, which was delicious. But now it’s 9:30pm and I’m just completing my ...
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“I can feel the heat closing in”
Since I couldn’t think of a title for today’s posting, I thought I’d use the first line from a famous novel: Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. Today’s story is a little different, form-wise. It takes the form of a blog. The stuff in this story about military blogs, the MILbloggies, is factual. I just happened to be poking around on the interweb for story ideas when I came across these military blogs; they’re fascinating. It’s interesting to see what people will talk about when they’re at war. I also found the site of a soldier who’d served as a fighter pilot over ...
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The one cliche writers can’t escape
Coffee. Read any book, watch any move that has writers as characters, and you’re sure to find them at some point guzzling a super-gulp sized cup of java (or vodka–but that’s another cliche altogether). Or, if they’re not drinking coffee, there are meta-jokes about coffee. For example, in season 2 of the TV show, “30 Rock” Kenneth the Page says: Kenneth: [about coffee] I love how it makes me feel. It’s like my heart is trying to hug my brain! And yet, the whole coffee thing is a cliche for a reason. It tastes great and it helps you keep ...
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The Monday Grind
Still some earthquake aftershocks today. Other than that, not much news to speak of. A typical Monday poring over my various to-do lists. This story was originally a poem I wrote for a class in grad school. My teacher defined it as “myth.” I don’t know what genre I’d call it. Absurdism? You be the judge… April 5th: The Whirling Dervish