Beware the Ides of March!


Upon which date I shall be reading from I, No Other. (The 15th, you ignorant buffoon!)

To? A captivated audience (containing possibly You?) at the VCFA, which is short for The Verboten Covfefe of the Finer thangs in life Ain’t free . . . or something like that. Lemme consult the Googleplex: Aha! The Vermont College of Fine Arts, I was close!

(That’s in Montpelier, VT, if you were the least bit confused by that last paragraph. Don’t worry, the writer has been fired. Cruelly.)

We’re quickly reaching the limits of my knowledge . . . ooh! It’s at 6PM! From 6-9PM, in fact. So we have:

6-9PM at VCFA in Montpelier VT on March 15.

I will be reading from I, No Other, but there will be others. For example, the Joey Truman/Jack Warren show! They have the weirdest coolest Performance Art Lit Music Thing going these days, don’t wanna miss that! And there will be Meghan Lamb! She’s from Chicago, I think, imagine coming all the way to Vermont to read stuff to people! And THIS JUST IN, and I quote: “Your post misses the debut of Margaret Wedge, whose Knickpoint will be published next month. You’ll fall in love with her a little; we all do.” Did you hear that? There’s going to be someone at this reading that you’ll fall in love with!!! Jesus Christ, how can you not show up for THAT?

It’s pretty rare that I fraternize with actual writer people, so this is going to be both amazing and terrifying, as all the best things in life are. If you come, you should buy my books and I’ll sign them! Or bring them (if you already bought them), and I’ll sign them! If I already signed them in the past, I’m not unwilling to sign them again. We’ll talk.

Mark your calendars, lads & lassies! In fact, use this handy Facebook event link if you are one of those drones still buzzing around that honeypot of Russkie deplorables.

Ah! There’s an image, too. Let’s see, how do we do this? You know what? This calls for a new post!

The Dream, Achieved


I am there!

Now that my works are catalogued in the Library, my immortality is at hand.

So much time having lapsed since my last entry ’pon this ’luminated parchment, what other news of the day may be conveyed? Hmm, I’ve both forgotten and care little. I will leave this Textpattern tab open for a while in case something occurs to me. I always have so much trouble finding my own blog, I forget what I was going to add to it, often even that I was looking for it in the first place.

Look on my works, ye mighty, and complain. Shelley was really ahead of his time on that one, don’t you think?

Tiresome Marketing


Here is a video of my reading in Austin. If it had registered even minutely on my consciousness that the video camera that was aimed at me would record … a video … that would reside in the permanent collection at the renowned museum of the Moving Image, Youtube, I likely would have chosen a different story to read. Not that there is anything terrible about “The Prince of Pee.” I maintain special affection for that piece, but I must acknowledge it is not one of the pillars of my oeuvre. I shall live and learn; next time, a pillar.

I have discovered that there is a Goodreads Giveaway of I, No Other that will end on April 12. Three copies are being made available: if you win, you’ll receive a copy of the book, the implied quid pro quo being that if you like what you read you will review it with Mega Stars, whereas if you dislike it, you will burn it on Youtube. If the literary flames happen to summon a malevolent spirit to the author’s bedchamber, I pray it will be an arousing and feminine one.

Easter in Austin


If your Easter plans are boring, why not ditch them and join me for my own Second Coming tomorrow in Austin, Texas at the Malvern Bookstore? Attendance is mandatory. Well … unless … of course … attending would be inconvenient … in which case, please don’t put yourself out on my account! Jesus, the last thing I need is a malcontented audience! I’ll be nervous enough as it is! I’m reading, you see. From I, No Other. And I’ll probably sign your book if you buy it and ask nicely. Or even just shove it in my face and grunt. I mean, I’m an “author,” I’m abject, whaddya want? Dignity? That shit went out with the fin de siècle, Boo.

Tomorrow morning I’ll be boarding a plane for the first time in many years. Air travel has gotten very tricky since the last time, I hear. I’m terrified that I’m going to be dragged out, bloodied up, and incongenially man-handled. Apparently, they offer money before calling in the thugs, so I might go for that, but I want to haggle it up, make it worth my while. I’m thinking 10 grand?

Either that, or I’ll fly to Austin and read from my book. So it’s win-win.