The homunculi leave us nothing but a drab fixity suspended in the isinglass of a dude named Albert whose variety shop we visit out of habit. Every morning the package of peppermint gum, because we think we know what peppermint is and believe we enjoy its flavor. Every morning the local paper, because we might…
Craft Note: Kickin’ it Old School
A Quiet De Luxe, it is, banged together by a worker preoccupied with discovering the subconscious mechanism by virtue of which his recurring nightmare of The Battle of the Bulge accommodated the delicate gesture made every day by the newspaper guy he passed on Farmington Avenue, a beseeching and weary opening of the hand that…
Housebreaking the Muse: Enter Raymond Queneau
This summer has been regrettably saturated, disruptive, and shambolic. Pulled by life in too many directions, I've been operating in a fog where everything gets some of my attention but never the amount it deserves. It has been, for me, a failed summer. And, oh yes, the world seems to have gotten even madder (are…
Craft Note: When You Can’t Write, Read Your Work
Like many writers, particularly writers of innovative fiction or fiction otherwise out of the mainstream, my writing contributes zero to my ability to pay my bills. Consequently, I have to fit my writing schedule around my job. Of course, my life involves more than just writing and job, and I think all of us can…
Off Topic: Hate and War
Hate and war - the only things we got today An' if I close my eyes They will not go away You have to deal with it It is the currency -"Hate and War," The Clash Hard to believe, but it's 35 years since The Clash penned this song about society playing out in microcosm…
Ed Desautels' Maximum Fiction 