One more week to Labor Day. Is it too soon to fear the end of summer is creeping in like a bad dream? Time to shake the sand out my beach towel and gird myself for autumn? No matter, it’s been a great summer. The family is doing well. The heat has been tolerable. My only regret is that if we’d had more rain I’d’ve written more instead of hanging out at the pool or hitting the Point Pleasant boardwalk or eating at the raw bar on the Manasquan Inlet.
Still, I did a fair amount of writing. “Demon Switch” suggested measures to prevent demonic mayhem, published June 5 by Everyday Weirdness, at http://everydayweirdness.com/e/20090605/. “Death in the Afternoon” took a metaphorical look at adolescent relationships through melting ice cubes, published by Every Day Fiction. July 4, at http://www.everydayfiction.com/death-in-the-afternoon-by-walter-giersbach/. “Who Dares Call It Murder?” was a venture into near-future speculative fiction, published by OG Short Fiction on July 15 at www.theopinionguy.com. Bewildering Stories has slated “Gothic Revival” for an upcoming issue. And a trio of humor pieces was published by the U.K. site, http://www.short-humour.org.uk/3writersshowcase/deathbyapathy.htm.
Still, I wonder if I have the energy, endurance and perspicacity to write a novel. Maybe I'll know when NaNoWriMo—National Novel Writing Month—rolls around in October. Hell, maybe I won’t shake out the beach towel just yet..
Cruising the Green of Second Avenue
What’s a friend for if not to make you feel good, eh? A very early (1959 or so) friend just wrote, “Indeed, let me tell you how much I enjoyed reading your short stories” in Cruisng the Green of Second Avenue. (Okay, commercial break: take a moment and click on http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=74&zenid=ff94c21f95111b27e8b7210244ac97a3.)
Now, that is really nice. He not only bought the book, he read it. “I really admire your talent,” he wrote, “to recreate and invent those most improbable situations and these wonderful characters who resurface รก la Faulkner from place to place, smoking (as I used to) Picayune cigarettes or needing to hide their tattoos. Your surprising codas or abrupt plots turning around as in the “Sound of Music” with la belle Ellen Schuster or the hermaphrodite-assumed son of the forger-embezzeler Carl [“The Man Who Put the Sin in Cynic”] give the reader a deserved kick in the pants.
Ah, mon vieux ami, you made me go back and read “Astroturfing Benjamin’s Books” the eighth story in Vol. I. And here I am astroturfing my own book, reality imitating art. Thank you for bringing a ray of sunshine into this snowy, overcast day!
Now, that is really nice. He not only bought the book, he read it. “I really admire your talent,” he wrote, “to recreate and invent those most improbable situations and these wonderful characters who resurface รก la Faulkner from place to place, smoking (as I used to) Picayune cigarettes or needing to hide their tattoos. Your surprising codas or abrupt plots turning around as in the “Sound of Music” with la belle Ellen Schuster or the hermaphrodite-assumed son of the forger-embezzeler Carl [“The Man Who Put the Sin in Cynic”] give the reader a deserved kick in the pants.
Ah, mon vieux ami, you made me go back and read “Astroturfing Benjamin’s Books” the eighth story in Vol. I. And here I am astroturfing my own book, reality imitating art. Thank you for bringing a ray of sunshine into this snowy, overcast day!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
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