Yes: the worst is true

June 14, 2007 Bull City Press, Microfiction, Poetry No Comments

After a brief visit to the library today, I have ended up with several new books, and none are non-fiction. Ladybug and I are driving to DC for a wedding next weekend, so I’ll be reading a fair bit on the road. I’m almost wishing that I were done with the book I’m reading, so I could dive headfirst into the Ander Monson book I picked up. Ander Monson is one of the best authors you’re not reading, so get on the stick, people.

The Regulator will soon be the latest bookstore to carry Bull City Press books. They should have them in stock next week. Stop by and support your independent bookstore. If you don’t use them, you lose them.

I need suggestions on great dance songs that people aged 16-66 would comfortable getting down with. Please please please, leave them in the comments.

Microfic archived to offline environs!

It’s day 14 of the month of microfic, my second since February and my third “write every day” month during that stretch. (April was all poetry, which was more difficult by leaps and bounds.) I have come to the place where I don’t stress on this at all, and I don’t hope for anything when I sit down. I just try to let something come out that interests me, and then quickly give it some sort of narrative arc. Some days are more successfully arc-ing than others. Today not so much. I plead distraction, from the odd screaming in the background of “A Song for the Deaf,” which iTunes has chosen to play twice in 15 minutes. And I’m happy to admit that for a month like this, that’s OK. I’m finally to the point where I regard writing a new piece daily as I regard doing sit-ups or taking a good long walk. It’s an exercise, and one that may not pay off in any way I can see today, but I suppose it cannot help but pay off sometime.Though if it could find a way to pay off monetarily, I’d be ok with that. I had to throw out my sweet-ass noise canceling headphones because I found out it would be more expensive to repair them than to just buy a new pair off of Amazon.

Another way it could pay off and I’d be happy: I could be a little more like Carl Phillips. I spent a wee bit of time thumbing through The Rest of Love tonight, and I’m consistently awed by that man.