Live on Brain Harvest: "The Occupation of the Architect"

I love Brain Harvest. Here's why:

1. Their flash-fiction format makes for a clear, clean layout with maximum exposure and impact for the stories they publish.

2. The stories they publish totally ROCK. Cross-genre, crazy-ass, visceral shit with no patience for stodgy tradition or cliche. It's exactly what the world of speculative fiction needs right now. A personal favorite lately: an amazingly weird story titled "Newsmaker 2049: An Interview with Rockin’ Killbot" by Van Choojitarom.

3. They just published a story of mine, "The Occupation of the Architect"!

And to top it all off: They pay good money for the stories they publish. Granted, I'm just happy to be keeping such great company. But it's nice to feel appreciated (and amply rewarded) for the work you do.

Go, Brain Harvest, go!

New sale, new publication

Kaleidotrope just bought my short story "Like a Cannonball" (yes, that's a Van Morrison reference) for an upcoming issue. This is my second sale (first fiction -- last one was poetry) to the magazine. Rad.

In other news, my short story "The Raincaller" is in the brand-spankin'-new issue 6 of the prestigious and amazing Sybil's Garage. Fuck. Yes. (P.S. This is the sequel to my Apex Magazine story "Behold: Skowt!" from last year.)

Sold: "The Name of Calvin" to New Myths

I just made my twelfth short fiction sale -- a folk tale called "The Name of Calvin." It'll by published by New Myths on June 1. So glad this one got picked up... It's an odd little story written in a weird frame of mind after digesting too much Italo Calvino one evening (hence the title). Woohoo! The bad news is, I'm down to just five finished stories that I'm shopping around right now. A couple more are very close to being done, but I'd better get on them shits, pronto.

Ballard blog up at Fantasy Magazine

The fine folks over at the fantastic Fantasy Magazine just posted my blog about the late J.G. Ballard. I've got something a lot lengthier in the works that ties together the hallucinogenic and magic-realist facets of Ballard's fiction (two elements I feel are often overlooked in favor of his more obvious social criticism/commentary). In short: Ballard the provocateur has always overshadowed Ballard the prose stylist. And that's a shame. I'll post something here when the longer essay is ready to run; until then, read some damn Ballard. Discover him. Rediscover him. Just get ready to meld brain matter (and muscle tissue and precious bodily fluids and a few other things I probably shouldn't mention here) with one of the 20th century's unique and most uncompromising madmen/geniuses.