Springing Forward

Excuse me while I wipe the dust off this site, as it’s been awhile.

Exciting news for y’all — my short story, The Only Moment We Were Alone has been published in the February 2018 issue with cc&d magazine, a subset of Scars Publication. Not only that, but it also appears in a collection book, including the January-April issues of the magazine. Maybe it’s time for me to quit my day job, eh?

Just kidding. But in all seriousness, head on over to the Scars website. You can read my short story online for free, or purchase the monthly issue via Amazon. The collection is also available to purchase via Amazon. Support all the writers and artists. Support small publications.

 

Until next time.

Back in the Game

Hi all.

We’re just going to move right on past the fact that it’s been, oh, a couple of months since I updated this here blog. I started a new job about two months ago (to the day, now that I think about it), and so writing has taken a backseat.

But I’m back.

On Getting Sick in a Foreign Country

The next day I got sick and died. I mean not really, but I did get tonsillitis.

An Excerpt from a Wanderer

Pembrokeshire (Milford Haven I guess) was really cool, after I finished my two hour walk to the bunkhouse. I got one bunkhouse to myself, which had eight beds, a sitting room, a TV (didn’t work), WiFi (also didn’t work), and a full kitchen (couldn’t get the stove to light). I had to get creative with dinner by just using hot water from the sink for my noodles, but hey, whatever works.

The Scarlet Leaf Review

For my first literary magazine recommendation, here’s a shameless plug for the online magazine that first gave me silly chance at being published: the Scarlet Leaf Review.

I Hope This Works Out, No Hetero of Course

March 4th, 2017. I finally submitted my play that was performed at Wheaton’s New Plays festival…exactly two years and three days ago. It’s fine. We’ll pretend like it didn’t take me this long to submit it to be produced.

Anyway, to celebrate, I will share with you all my favorite scene (well, half of a scene) from No Hetero (formerly known as Can-Swiss). For those of you who are not familiar with the play, it is set in a topsy-turvy world where being gay is the norm, and being straight is unheard of. With that said…

Riddle Me This

Let’s have some fun. In my book I include a riddle. Let’s see if someone can solve it, shall we?

Endings and Distractions

Today I hit 45,000 words for the novel that I am working on. The end is so close. I can see it. I mean I can actually see it, I wrote the ending not long after I wrote the beginning.

Whiskey Excerpt

December 1945

It had been three months since Pop had returned from the war. The lines around his eyes grew with each year he spent on the front. He cheeks were hollowed, and his temper was shorter than the time it took to drop the bomb on Nagasaki. Pictures of the Japanese city were strewn about the desk. Pop took the pictures after his helicopter landed – his was the first to do so after the bomb. He stood at his desk, staring at them as Ma cooked him up the nice dinner she promised. One picture was shifted a tad; the desk was a shade darker where the picture used to be. He narrowed his eyes. There wasn’t a living being in a single picture. The trees were stripped of their leaves. Buildings were crumbled to the ground. Windowpanes were shattered and cars were left abandoned. Were they real? Or were they something from a horror film? Pop figured there wasn’t much difference.

Ma was finishing up in the kitchen. She had decided she would make him a nice Spam dinner – Pop ate it often in the war, so she thought he would enjoy having it again after a few months. She pulled out two China plates from the glass cabinet, sliced out the Spam, and plopped two slices onto each plate alongside some almost-smooth mashed potatoes and creamed corn.

“Dear, dinner is all set!” Ma called out.

Definitely Not an American Bar

Szimpla. Hands down the coolest bar I have ever been to. You walk in, and at first it’s a little too dark to see the place. It doesn’t look that big. You enter into a hallway littered with people, but not so packed that it’s irritating to move through. Off to the left you see a hookah lounge, and to the right is the first of many bars. There’s artwork and sculptures everywhere. We go to the first bar and get absinthe shots. Then glasses of water because the absinthe aftertaste is not ideal. We leave that room and go deeper into Szimpla, because it is much more than meets the eye.

The hallway opens up to a courtyard, which you don’t realize is a courtyard until you pass through for a second time because you’re so entranced by the old walls, the bizarre works of art, the colorful lights strung about, and throngs of people, all melding together to create an atmosphere that is not overwhelming, but rather, infatuating. You think that it is a place that you can lock eyes with someone from across the yet-to-be-realized courtyard and maybe you could dance the night away under the red and blue and green and yellow lights, or you could just stand there drinking inexpensive drinks and talk until you see the sunrise, because the music isn’t too loud, and despite the crowd, there isn’t any heavy dancing, nor couples getting too into their dancing and bumping into you with no sense of space. Because this was no American bar. This was Budapest.