The long dark something.
Yes, I know. I know. I don’t know. I’m working on it. I know. I’ll let you know.
In the meanwhile, here’s the City of Roses its own dam’ self, out on the town:
—posted 4759 days ago
Blog Tour de Troops.
Good morning, good evening, whatever greeting’s appropriate to whatever time it is wherever you find yourself to be as you’re reading this. I’m assuming most of you found your way here from Zoe Saadia’s joint, and you’ll while away a moment or three before wending off to John Zunski’s cabin; from pre-Columbian North America to post-hope Portland to the late, great ’80s and ’90s: quite a lot of hopping, and from the itinerary it’s just a couple of short legs of a long, strange, thoroughly enjoyable tour. —Don’t mind me; any of the regulars’ll tell you I get like this toward the middle of an episode, with the hair every which way and the eyes red and the empty bottles clanking underfoot. Trouble is, I’ve been in the middle of this particular episode for a couple of weeks too long already and I still don’t even know what the sticking point is so I’ll just be over here with the keyboard and the screen and the pieces of paper with the notes scrawled on both sides and the muttering and the occasional yelps and curses and don’t mind me. That’s best for all concerned.
Leave a comment! Right. Leave a comment on this post right here, today only, say hello, drop me an email address and I’ll send you a Smashwords code good for a copy of “Wake up…”, which is the collected edition of the first eleven episodes of City of Roses, which, well, is gonzo noirish urban fantasy set very firmly in Portland, Oregon, where sinister riverfront condo developments are fought by a sprawling tea-house constructed from scrap lumber and old windows, and ancient sea-gods retire to close-in Southeast apartments with lovely views, and Jo Maguire, a highly strung, underemployed telemarketer, meets Ysabel, a princess of unspecified pedigree. And, well, things happen. There’s sword fights, and a boar hunt in a shopping mall (after hours, of course). There’s this bit where a church gets besieged by ghost bicycles. There’s also sex and magic and witty banter, the important stuff, adventure, escapism, the ten thousand things, the one true only, you know: “a very English American adventure,” someone said, and some other folks have said it’s “just another Portland story,” it’s “utterly captivating,” and it’s “brilliant.”
Anyway: comment, email, coupon, download, read for yourself, do the right thing, support the troops, support the arts, read global, kick local, fight the power, stick it to whatever needs sticking and be sure to get a good night’s sleep and a hot breakfast in you before coming back to do it all again, okay?
—Like I said. Don’t mind me. Mumbling, yelps, curses, furious typing followed by even more furious deleting. Soon as I figure out what’s going on all hell’s gonna break loose.
—posted 4764 days ago
The rain, the former rain, and the latter, later rain.
It is with a rather neutral sense not of dismay nor anywhere near contentment much less joy but mostly a sort of “meh” that I announce that no. 16, “Plenty,” will not begin its online run as previously boasted on October 17th. It will instead be dealyed a week, to premiere Monday, October 24th. —Of course, no. 15 was delayed by a week, and anyway the break between nos. 15 and 16 was another of the really short ones (like between 12 and 13), so it’s not like I’m breaking a promise per se. It’s being kept. After its fashion.
While you’re waiting: I’ll take a moment once again to remind you of “Wake up…”. If you’ve read the first 11 chapters, you know what’s what; take a moment to let others know what you thought and what they’re missing by not following your lead, if you’re so inclined. (The requisite round-up: Amazon, CreateSpace, B&N, Smashwords, Lulu, LibraryThing, Goodreads, Shelfari.)
And then I’ve got to figure out what the cover for “Deliverance” ought to be. —Fifteen down, seven to go…
—posted 4802 days ago
Things to keep in mind:
The secret of skin.
This is the theory… that anything that is art… is presumably about some certain thing, but is really always about something else, and it’s no good having one without the other, because if you just have the something it is boring and if you just have the something else it’s irritating.
—posted 4821 days ago
Technical difficulties.
There will be a brief delay before the final two parts of No. 15, “Frail,” are posted. —Further updates as they are made available.
—posted 4832 days ago
Blather; bother.
Cheap Ass Fiction is in the middle of an ambitious Web Fiction Festival, posting excerpts, links, and interviews; in addition to such luminaries as Thaumaturgist, Joey Comeau, Greg X Graves, and M.E. Traylor, they went and got me to answer a few questions. So there’s that. —Meanwhile, I’m plummeting toward the earth at truly obscene rates of speed and I’m almost done finishing the knitting needles; as soon as I find myself some yarn, I’ll start knitting that parachute—
—posted 4843 days ago
An inch, a mile.
So: a bump in the road:
No. 15, “Frail,” will not begin its online run as previously boasted on August 22nd. It is instead being delayed a week, to premiere Monday, August 29th, and even then I gotta tell you I’m nervous, jittery, out of sorts. —Why? Oh, I could tell you why: life, mostly. And it took a while to figure out what this one was about. (I knew what had to happen, but that wasn’t of much use at all.) (Oh and yes what it’s ostensibly about is obvious enough, which makes the delay the more ironical, but that doesn’t help me figure out where to point this scene, or that exchange.)
You might have noticed the utter lack of Twitter numbers, if ever you noticed their presence. That’s usually a sign. (5,310 as of: now.) (Yes, the target is 15,000.) (And look! There’s the jitter, the nerves, and yonder the sorts from which I’ve been cast out.) —The snappish temper, the crabby growling, the clatter of keys followed by swallowed curses: these are all signs, too. (And oh, yes: the irony. In all its Morissettey glory.)
While waiting, you might consider letting others know about “Wake up…”, if you hadn’t already? (The requisite round-up: Amazon, CreateSpace, B&N, Smashwords, Lulu, LibraryThing, Goodreads, Shelfari.)
And just hope with me most fervently that “Plenty” will restore to us all the years that the locust hath eaten—
—posted 4853 days ago
The zines of August.
This is just to let you know I’ll be tabling once more at the Portland Zine Symposium (11th Annual): next weekend, Saturday 6th August – Sunday 7th, at Refuge in close-in Southeast: 116 SE Yamhill, between the bridges.
I’ll have chapbooks for nos. 1 – 14, snapshots and (some) buttons, maybe even a peek at no. 15, and of course a few physical copies of The Book Itself. —And roses; many roses. Do come say hi.
—posted 4869 days ago
Oslo, 26. juli 2011.
Everyone searching for “city of roses” today: I think this is what you’re looking for. #oslove #norway
—posted 4875 days ago
I bring
The newis glad that blissful ben and sure
Of thy confort ;
Outside it’s a gloomy July, chilly and rain-soaked, and the “Mirror, Mirror” cast is getting ready to mud-wrestle; inside, it’s carrion-shellacked November, and the Solstice bearing down. —And so the above. A number of things have happened, and continue to be happening; let’s run it down:
Imprimis, the Marathon: So I’ve been participating I suppose is the word in the Clarion West Write-a-thon, which raises money for the Clarion West Writers Workshop; said participation has the last little while mostly consisted of feeling guilty while I move some outline cards around and tell myself there’s still time, still oodles and oodles of time. (There isn’t.) —There’s still a couple of weeks left to support the effort generally, or myself specifically; all proceeds to the workshop, of course.
Item. the Pie: I have just eaten the last slice of the marionberry-cherry pie the Spouse made a few days ago. With a dollop of vanilla gelato.
Item. the Ebook: Now available in native Kindle form direct from Amazon, which is the sort of milestone that can’t help but bring a smile to the face of the neophyte self-publisher, even though of course it’s much better in the long run for all of us if you buy from me direct; to that end I should point out that EPUB, MOBI, and PDF versions are now all available for one low price (all proceeds of which to me, of course).
Item. the Music: It has come to my attention that I have no ELO whatsoever in any of the various music libraries to which I have unfettered access; something shall be done to rectify this state of affairs shortly. —Also, I need my own copy of the Gælic.
Item. the Symposium: Once more I will be tabling at the Portland Zine Symposium; I’ll be the fellow behind all the roses. August 6th and 7th, Saturday and Sunday, at Refuge in inner SE. I’ll have chapbooks for nos. 1 – 14, buttons and photos and maybe some stickers, a taste of no. 15 (still slated to begin on Aug. 22, mind), and well a few copies of the next:
Item. the Paperback: So when I’d done all the necessary work to gather the first 11 chapbooks into a compact ebook form, I stepped back, looked at it, and said to myself, you know, just a wee bit more and…
So, available from (Amazon’s own) CreateSpace, a physical paperback book of volume one, “Wake up…” —Order direct from them, or see me at the PZS. (But see me early! I won’t have that many on me.)
—posted 4883 days ago
