10.18.2009
here is a commissioned Charles Barkely portrait
email me if you'd like me to paint an athlete, historical figure, loved one for $$$
10.17.2009
10.06.2009
"Pee On Water and Other STories" will be available this summer!
Publishing Genius is publishing my first book
10.04.2009
NOHO READING THIS THURSDAY!
October 8th, 7PM (on the dot!), at Northampton Booklink. Upstairs in the
Thornes. 150 Main Street. Heart of Downtown Northampton. Cozy! Novel!
ELLIOT HARMON! The redheaded wonder! From North Dakota by way of San Francisco!
The poet laureate of Ms. Pacman! Editor of Idiolexicon! Whose work has appeared
in DIAGRAM, NOÖ Journal, and elsewhere! Who knows the news anchor's taking
lessons on sounding like she's from here!
JOHN MARADIK! Curlyheaded provocateur of Hugo's bouncers! Angel with sentences
of flint! Published in American Short Fiction! Climbing up the rockfaces of
narrative splendor!
ROBIN MCLEAN! Who has driven her wit and beauty from Alaska to Massachusetts and
back again! Who has elevated the bonfire to spiritual raucous! Writer of
characters that whistle with punch and frankheaded grace!
Thornes. 150 Main Street. Heart of Downtown Northampton. Cozy! Novel!
ELLIOT HARMON! The redheaded wonder! From North Dakota by way of San Francisco!
The poet laureate of Ms. Pacman! Editor of Idiolexicon! Whose work has appeared
in DIAGRAM, NOÖ Journal, and elsewhere! Who knows the news anchor's taking
lessons on sounding like she's from here!
JOHN MARADIK! Curlyheaded provocateur of Hugo's bouncers! Angel with sentences
of flint! Published in American Short Fiction! Climbing up the rockfaces of
narrative splendor!
ROBIN MCLEAN! Who has driven her wit and beauty from Alaska to Massachusetts and
back again! Who has elevated the bonfire to spiritual raucous! Writer of
characters that whistle with punch and frankheaded grace!
7.22.2009
5.27.2009
3.30.2009
#6
Disappointment is added on a list. Desire discards all lists. Javier got his knuckle bit, but it didn't discourage him, it was his pass-code to the new world. Claire was self-conscious so went in the bathroom. The town they peopled made them better realize the city. They felt drawn to an even smaller town. Could this end, thought Maryanne. Maryanne knew if they moved to a smaller town, they would just get a crush on a smaller town, they would find the locals more local, the animals, there would be more. And even having a house in the woods, wouldn't one night they decide to sleep out in the yard, and feeling too safe, want to wander deep in some woods, where the world starts, where the day begins? Would this year end with them sleeping in dirt, on sticks, through rain? Joyce just wanted a cool job. She didn't want to have to tell her friends about anything uncool. Here, in this moment, a person has a tongue, and teeth, does restaurants, does taxes, does wish some and get some, but leans forward, scratching at anything that sticks out, patrolling his own skin for problems, leaning into the next moment, spreading disappointment and predictions, but Javier, his knuckle was cool.
2.28.2009
2.20.2009
2.16.2009
a poem i like that Landman wrote
My Friends:
It had been years since I had written a poem. A stone's throw from my front porch, a momentous car pulled up along the sidewalk. I asked out loud, "What in the hell is going on here?" I felt the wind coming from across the graveyard. I could hear--let me try this like this--I can hear the traffic from the highway at night. It is a distance away. I can't tell you. No, you cannot hear it, are mistaken. A front porch since my car crash, I sit there every hour. I go out there and cycle back through choices. I asked, of course, of traffic, what sort of belly do you have? It settles. Is it settled? A sidewalk does what in a frost heave? Is this appropriate? To ask a baby? Right here, I peek out the window at the front porch. The house is dastardly and floats on a hill. What a hill. Photographs. There are no answers to front porch traffic. You can't hear the highway at night. The cars come, so I wish to be a car, out loud. Crash, floats the hill. House, say the bees. The graveyard is in hell, you know. Here is going on, like a distance the trees settle on before cars. When I see the redwoods, I settle on a front porch reaction. I can ask lots of the hours. In the belly of giving back, cycle back, sort of photographic. It's a memory of a memory. The shudder of shatter.2.09.2009
more
My story "Doodle Face" is in the new Barrelhouse. If you want to buy it you can click this underlined word.
Today I had the pleasure of joining young publisher Seth Landman go collect his new books from the press. These are: Invisible Ear 3, and Beethoven of Smells (A.S. Parker's chapbook). I got to help number these babies and I was impressed! Find Landman at AWP and give him a hard time!
2.06.2009
American Short Fiction
My storyIconographic Conventions of Pre- and Early Renaissance:
Italian Representations of the Flagellation of Christ
is in the new issue of American Short Fiction.
Also, a bunch of Western Mass's bone-yard bunch are in this new chapbook edited by Sara Blaylock
Also, the lakers beat the celtics in overtime last night by one point.
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