Transmissions From Baby-Town: “The Face Of My Father”

It’s too early to see how else or how often that glimmer of my father will appear in my son — maybe it’ll come and go and then leave for a time, or maybe it’ll always be there. My son is strong. Independent and stubborn. Like my father and, perhaps to a lesser degree, like me. He’s already good with his hands — my father worked with his hands.

Do You Believe In Ghosts?

So, what I’m asking you is: Do you believe in ghosts? Do you think it’s all bullshit? Better yet: ever had any experiences with ghosts? Or anything at all you can’t explain? It’s Halloween. It’s the time of stories like these. So, let’s hear ‘em.

Tell us your spooky — and true as you see them — stories.

Why I Wrote Shotgun Gravy

I think I might do this for all my releases going forward: a post on why I wrote what I wrote. For good or bad, a look into the creative process — like a piranha frenzy or a garter snake breeding ball — that results in the grim and gory birth of fiction. Here, then, is a look into why I went ahead and wrote SHOTGUN GRAVY.

Transmissions From Baby-Town: “The Elmo Problem”

B-Dub, though, he’s rapt. He’ll brighten when Big Bird comes on. He’ll talk to Abby the whatever-the-fuck-she-is. Fairy? She’s a fairy, right? Hell, soon as that new guy Murray shows up, B-Dub’s in. He’s invested. And then, of course, Elmo shows. Elmo. Fuuuuuckin’ Elmo.

Nine-Eleven

Remembering is good, though. Celebration isn’t, but that’s up to us not to turn this into some kind of crass holiday. Point being, I wasn’t going to write anything. And yet, here I am, barking into the void. You want to know what I remember about 9/11? Here’s what I remember.