(past imperfect)
William Bradley is the Ethical Exhibitionist. He is also an insanely talented writer. His work is featured in the latest Brevity, which just hit the Web.
One day, my dad came home at lunch with the newspaper—fresh off the press—in his hand. “Do you know this girl?” She looked more interesting in black and white. “She’s missing,” he said. “Her parents think she was kidnapped.”
The latest issue of Sweet has hit the Web. I’ve got a story in this one, so I’m excited.
My story, Jimi Don’t Play Here No More, which appears in Brevity 29, will also be featured in a new anthology titled, Rough Beast: Stories of Exile and Unrequited Love, from Bannock Street Books.
Helmed by Sarah Black, Bannock Street Books is a new micro-press that specializes in handmade chapbooks that feature flash fiction and memoir (although flash memoir isn’t mentioned on the site just yet).
I’m delighted.
In other ”Jimi Don’t Play Here” news, William Bradley linked to my story from his blog. Bradley is none other than the Ethical Exhibitionist, which is something I bet we all wish we could say, but we can’t because Bradley thought of it first.
I found his post this afternoon as I was browsing his site and was pleasantly surprised.
Brevity 29, the January 2009 edition, has hit the Web. I’ve got a story in this one, so I’m excited.
I’ve also still got a job, despite the carnage to the Seattle tech industry this morning. Good luck to anyone who may have lost theirs today. And if that’s not enough to make me feel grateful, this afternoon the police responded to reports of an armed gunman in the woods behind my kids’ elementary school. No one was hurt, but the school was locked down when Holly went to pick them up tonight.
Jesus. You gotta hope the dead don’t rise with the moon tonight.
Susan Reynolds just wrote to tell me that the anthology of stories about fathers with an excerpt from my childhood memoir is available on Amazon now. It’s not going to be available until May 18, but you can always do your Father’s Day shopping early.
I just realized I get to buy someone a Father’s Day gift this year!
The Brevity blog is now using the Journalist theme, which includes a little word balloon for the tag line. I love how it makes the old dude in the Brevity icon look like he is offering concise writing advice.
I have a piece forthcoming at Brevity, the magazine. It’s an essay called Jimi Don’t Play Here No More. Most of the authors who published stories in the recent issue of Brevity have also written blog posts on the Brevity blog. These posts offer the writer’s opinion on their piece or some insight into how it was written. Even though I hadn’t been asked, I already wrote a blog post about my story, Jimi Don’t Player Here No More. Can you tell I’m excited?
This is my first published story about using dope or my ordeal in New York City.
When Dan Jones of the New York Times called about publishing one of my stories for Modern Love, I was delighted. I was also determined not to let him know I had a drug history. Dan had emailed me that he thought my story might work well for Father’s Day and wanted to discuss it more by phone. I immediately thought: Don’t tell him about the drugs. He’ll think you’re a loser. But then when he called, we talked for less than five minutes before my drug history came up.
It went something like this:
“So if your son was in Pennsylvania with your ex-wife, what were you doing in New York City?” Dan asked.
I chuckled demurely. Lying seemed like a bad idea.
“Well,” I said taking a deep breath. “That’s another story.”
I’ve got an essay appearing in a special mid-summer bonus edition of Brevity 27. This is a companion piece to my Modern Love essay from earlier this week. The Modern Love essay examines my relationship with my son, while the Brevity piece explores my relationship with Dad.
The Brevity piece also appears on the Brevity blog, a great place to discuss creative non-fiction, truth in memoir, or the concept of a mid-summer pick me up.
I have an essay appearing in the New York Times this weekend. I wrote this one right after Timmy graduated high school, and we took all the kids to New York City that summer (that’s Timmy in Central Park).
Earlier this year I came across the essay on my thumb drive, cleaned it up, and sent it to my writing group, who then helped me hammer out the rough edges. I’m still a little amazed Modern Love picked it up.
