Come for a listen. . . or just a pint. 7-9pm.
Come see me read & speak at Boréal, the outstanding annual Canadian French-language speculative fiction conference. This weekend I’ll be on the English track discussing All The Cool Stuff with Jo Walton, Claude Lalumière, Marie Bilodeau, Derek Künsken and other literary Canadian hip cats. Montreal is charming AF and the con is in the Masonic Temple!! So now’s your chance and no excuses.
Hear me read from my rock-n-roll Schrödinger’s birdie story “Wonderband” at the ALICE UNBOUND book launch this weekend at the 3 Brewers Pub on Sparks Street in downtown Ottawa. This one imagines Alice in Wonderland‘s duck, eaglet, lory, and dodo as an indie rock band ready to rock it out against their nemeses, The Hearts, if only Duckie can win himself back into the good graces of the greatest lead singer in town: the enigmatic Gryphon.
I guess you can take the girl out of Austin, but you can never really take Austin out of the girl. . .
“Beg your pardon? Well yes… I suppose it does look a little like a ceramic doughnut. I’d never noticed. But make no mistake! That smooth frosted exterior hides the finest modern microtechnology, computer components too small to see with the naked eye, taking remote readings from up to twenty meters away… We’ve been collecting data for decades, you know, all in the public interest.”
Stupefying Stories Showcase presents my short piece “Quality of Life.” Read the rest here:
Microfiction! Here’s a link to 200 CCs – Year One in paperback. Includes my micro story “Halloween: an Unlove Story.”
Gorgeous new magazine from the UK, full of delights and surprises: CHROMA Magazine, the Red issue. Includes my short interstitial piece, “My Month of Meating.”
direct link: http://www.chromamagazine.com/the-red-issue
I’m here! Goodbye, Austin Film Festival — you were lovely. Hello, World Fantasy Convention. You are lovely.
photo: Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas; AFF 2017
“Remember what I did, remember what I was, back on Halloween?” – The Dead Kennedys
You were so punkrock I was shitting myself for a piece of you. Liberty spikes, kilt over thrashed jeans, and enough steel chain swinging from your studded belt to haul commercial timber up a goddamn cliff. You were the Sid Vicious I’d been looking for and all sixteen years and ten-inch fin of me wanted so bad to be your Nancy I was practically drooling. It was the kind of love story I could get behind: drunken brawls, misdirected nihilism, and all the social dysfunction my teenage heart could bear.
The party was glorious, plastic skeletons and cheap vodka, black candles in the graveyard and sex on the tombstones till sunrise. Then came school on Monday like usual and surprise! you’re the substitute teacher.
Who makes teachers so fine, so young? Whoever that is should be shot.
Gone were your shredded jeans. No trace of ‘spikes, no ghost-clank chains, no smeared black kohl. Shiny and scrubbed, you wore pleated khakis with penny loafers. I was young but decided then and there I deserved a love story that wasn’t fatal, and would occur with more regularity than one day each year. <>
Holy wow. Have been having so much fun in my hometown of AUSTIN, TEXAS that I’ve forgotten to mention I’m here. If you’re in downtown Austin this week for the AUSTIN FILM FESTIVAL and have somehow managed to escape my notice at the bar, come say hello!