On boots and bars and motorbikes...

Some monsters will keep you up nights. But in the heart of Texas, our monsters are all too often, all too real... That's how Madville's editorial director Kimberly Davis teased the stories that have become my book, after picking a picture for the cover that you'd swear slipped right out of an old family album someplace, based on little more than a few words I lumped together in an attempt to express a coherent thought. Believe me, "attempt" was just about all I managed in some of those earlier drafts.  Still, the Davis officially added Long Gong & Lost: True Fictions and Other Lies to its 2019-2020 Catalog, a week before the start of the annual AWP Conference in Portland, Ore., and mere days after they officially signed yours truly as one of their newest authors.  In case that title is seeming awfully familiar, it is the same basic manuscript I submitted for my final thesis project in the University of Houston-Victoria's MFA creative wr...

I spent 25 years writing for the cheap sheets. Then, after a while away, I shot for the impossible from the cheap seats. I returned to writing. I decided one day I'd call it Author-ized in ’18… Why? Because it sounded good and slogany, and that’s exactly what I needed right then as I built pages like this one. God knows how many pages built on social media platforms before I finally settled on a few that I liked. As 2018 draws to a close, I thought I might do well by revisiting some of where all this has been in just these few short months. Of course, like most things you'll ever read by my hand, you're about to get some back story. You can take that to the bank. Besides, that MFA program I was in, you see, required me to write an entire book. If I didn't pad the backgrounds, how the hell else would I have pulled off something like that? No, really, I didn't intentionally pad a damn thing. Not saying it ain't there, just that I didn't intend for i...

Holing up  for the holidays?  Can't say I blame you. Just way too much in states of transition right now, especially since it seems to be taking the slow walk  around the world right now. Too many people I know who spent the season alone. Several for the first time. In their present situation, anyway We've lost too many this year...  I know its coming.             I can feel it.             Prickles on                 golden hairs                      long lost ghosts of my phantasmal              fortune.  Time to                     fortify, fluidly.                                           ...

Ever had one of them days where everything goes from roses and sunshine to something much more akin to the southernmost drafts of northbound horse? I never was all that great at geography, but something about all this just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve always been a lot better at getting a story told, I always thought. And the editors over at The Ocotillo Review and Kallisto Gaia Press seemed to think so, too, because they recently notified me that they planned to publish my fourth story from my Long Gone & Lost collection, which I’ll be turning in for my MFA here in the very near future. I’m fairly certain that the two fellows from my story would know all about those ill tasting after effects I mentioned, however. They may be all fiction themselves, but they were indeed inspired by real life events in a real life newsrooms. Dave Kindred wrote about a few folks just like these two who, mere days after everybody was riding a high that only those who win six Pulitzers wil...

What happens when a medically discharged combat veteran, an oddball albino and a runaway toddler all cross paths one day? Toss in a big pile of pups and you'd have the start of a character list to Lubbock 1974 , one of the newest and darkest stories from my Long Gone & Lost collection, and it went live on the East Coast today at Amarillo Bay, the University of South Carolina's online literary magazine. The story offers an unsettling glimpse at a day in the life of a bunch of misfits tossed together by chance in the Texas Panhandle during the early 1970s. I tried writing something like this almost thirty years ago now, when I first went off to the university in San Marcos. Called it the Red Rubber Ball, a truly awful piece college freshman-year poetry that I'm fairly certain the fates destroyed for me finally, in a late night house fire during the mid-1990s. Few are left who ever even saw those particular words. But the story it told is where started when I wrote th...

Just got word from an editor at a literary magazine out of South Carolina that they'd like publish another piece I wrote. They'd like to place it in their upcoming October edition. This current offer is with an online magazine called Amarillo Bay , (so named to reflect the hometown locations the magazine's founders, one from the Texas Panhandle and the other from San Francisco, back in 1999). It's published the Department of English at the University of South Carolina, Aiken, S.C., and as best I can tell, it's another one of those exposure-only type publications, no monetary perks involved. I've got the same piece in with a possible four other publishers, some of them actual paying contests and paid submission sites. This is where multiple submissions will give you an ulcer if you start thinking on it too hard. The piece that caught their eye is one of the more experimental pieces I wrote for my book I'm calling "Lubbock 1974," about what sc...

Somewhere between teaching summer school college classes, working on book edits, wrapping up my electrical classes and otherwise riding life bareback, trying hard to hang on, I almost forgot about it.  You might recall, perhaps, me mentioning a few weeks back that three publications had chosen to publish things I wrote- -Bluestem (from Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, Ill.), with my story "Mr. Man Candy" (which I'll be publishing here soon, in its entirety with audio); the new Havik anthology Rise (from Las Positas College in Livermore, Calif.) ran my poems "Hap. Haz.Ard" and "Hipster Jesus," the latter even claiming a surprise second place win in the school's poetry contest along with a $75 cash prize (but that's another story for another day). And finally, there was Alchemy from Portland (Ore.) Community College, which published two more of my poems, "My Little Girl," shown above, and "Why You (dis)sin?...

I found this proof cover of the 2018 Havik anthology about midday Saturday, May 19, at roughly the same time the faculty and staff were hosting a party for the new book at Las Positas College in California. I rather hoped I would've seen more photos from the event, but from the looks of it they came right down to the wire of getting this thing put together. I've attached another picture at the foot of this post that goes over the general basics of the publication this year. If my imaginings are anywhere close, this must be one hefty volume. A total of 122 contributors from six continents. I'm rather amazed my piddling contributions got anyplace near it. At least that's what I thought, anyhow. In fact, I wrote the whole thing, tongue in cheek, more as a spoof of a poem rather than an actual submission. Of course, I banged this one out on one of those days I got like 14 rejections in one day. I wrote this snarky as hell, and submitted it thinking it could...

A printer's proof of the cover art of the anthology that will feature my two poems along with the works of 120 writers from all over the world, apparently. I had no idea there were that many sub- missions. I'm rather shocked my works survived the cut. Gotta say, the more I learned about the numbers for this anthology, the more surprised I am that I'm writing this now, especially for my poetic works. Now this particular poem is another one of those poetry writing workshops pieces I crafted in late 2016, not long after reading William Carlos Williams' Spring and All and crafting a 30-page  chapbook for my actual writing assignment, following weekend trip with my dad and his wife and my future bride to Georgetown for my cousin's wedding. We stayed in a lovely B&B, across the street from Southwestern University, and had a grand time at their nuptial party in beautifully rustic surroundings on the outskirts of town. Of all those 30 pages, m...