Yesterday, I read Leyna Krow's story "Tiger, Tiger" in the gorgeous Fall 2011 issue of Sou'wester. You know that feeling when everything snaps in place? That's how I felt after reading "Tiger, Tiger," the story of a couple who suspect that their neighbor keeps a tiger inside a cage. Their attempts to find the tiger tell the reader so much about the couple; the thrill of actually finding the tiger, if the tiger really exists, only serves as a backdrop. And this is only one story in the 50 years that is Sou'wester! I received this issue for free because I had work included in the previous issue. One of the perks of the small presses, once in a while, something arrives in the mail (a book, a magazine, a postcard, etc.), and it makes me stop questioning why I'm doing what I'm doing. :D
My book, We Bury the Landscape, received a wonderful review from Michelle Bailat-Jones at Necessary Fiction. I was also invited to participate in Research Notes by the kind Steve Himmer, author of the novel The Bee-Loud Glade (I plan to review it on Goodreads and Amazon soon).
So many kind book bloggers also posted reviews of my book on Goodreads and on their blogs.
I have projects underway, too. What a good year this 2012 is turning out to be...
Another must-read! On my bedside table is Theodore Carter's The Life Story of a Chilean Sea Blob. I took a peek at the first story. It looks like it's about a kid who can walk on water, and his magical walk on water is probably due to parenting neglect! I'm so going to love this!
I had the pleasure of reading the early version of Tears for Rahul Dutta, a short collection of interrelated stories by my writer-friend, Gaurav Monga. I'm so glad to see it being published by Philistine Press.
It's 2 AM here. I can't sleep.
By the way, please meet my new desk chair. I just peeled off the plastic covering three-four hours ago. Look at those contours. Look at that reclining thingy that will be forced to bend to my will for years and years. Look at that gray covering -- so plain, so predisposed to resemble any ordinary chair in the world.
As for the thing that looks like a table -- that's my table. This is inside my bedroom. This is where all the action in my life happens.
I hardly use paper.
My parents are asleep. There's only the three of us in a big house with a "history," a paranormal history! I need something to snack on, but I will never dare to cross the great and limitless divide that separates me from the fridge in the kitchen.
This ends our senseless blog post for today. Me, hungry. You, bored.
We lurk late. We real cool...
Meditations of a Beast
Age of Blight
A Roomful of Machines
We Bury the Landscape