Once back at my place she plays it coy scuttling under the couch until I menace her with a can of Raid using it to steer her toward the bedroom antennae twitching in excitement crawling up the edge of my bedspread chittering as I run my fingers along her polished carapace stroking her thorax her withered ornamental wings fluttering mandibles dug into my pillow in insectile ecstasy while I prepare to mount her probing for anything resembling a vagina wondering if she uses protection and if not if the pupa will look anything like me.
* * * * *
I’m not going back to you. I’m gone. I’m outta here. You won’t find me. It’ll be like we never met. Just another face in the crowd. On a forgotten street. In a strange country. One of the disappeared. Yeah. Lost in time and space. I wasn’t born in the first place. Back to the womb. Stillborn. No. Aborted. A puddle of pink flesh. Gristle and blood. Dumped in an incinerator. Reduced to ash. Floating in the troposphere. Burned by the sun. Ultraviolet radiation. A cancer on your body.
* * * * *
These are two of my favorite short prose pieces, excerpted from my recently released volume Stromata: Prose Works (1992-2011).
For ordering information, please go here.
Photo credit: Sherron Burns
That’s right, kids, it’s that time of the year again.
E-Books have grown in popularity exponentially over the past 5 years and there are no indications that trend has run its course. Especially when the folks at Apple have us all salivating over their new “tablet”.
Pop over to the e-Book site Rita Toews has set up, check out some of the contests and download the many freebies their partners (including yers truly) have provided. Dip your toes into the e-book waters, folks: the temperature’s fine and there’s no pollution from those industrial giants in New York, Toronto and London. Just terrific prose from people with a lifelong love of the printed word.
See you over there…
What? More free reading for you? Why not? It’s summertime, kick back, take it easy. And here’s a mind-blowing little gem, a short story from my Reality Machine collection that I think, in all honesty, is one of the ten best I’ve ever written.
“New World Man” owes its origins to some time I spent with…I guess you’d call him a street kid. I met him at a record store/head shop after we moved back to Saskatchewan (from Baffin Island) in the mid-90’s. Hung out with “Kyle” (not his name), met his extended family, seven or eight young people sharing a grotty one-room apartment, sleeping bags spread out on the floor like nests, music constantly playing. Kyle was a Rancid freak and tried to convert me–didn’t take, pal, sorry. He introduced me to someone who morphed into the “Marvin” character and gave me a peek at a sub-culture, a way of viewing the world that was invaluable to the writing of the story.
But “New World Man” also reflects my growing misgivings as I watch the increasing prevalence and attraction of video games; we’re on the cusp of functional virtual reality, full immersion in an invented, interactive environment. What will that do to relationships, the role of family and friends, regular social intercourse with strangers on the street, at the market? More on this subject in a future post…
A German editor selected “New World Man” for an anthology of the 20 All Time Best Science Fiction Stories (Goldmann Publishing); he told me with some glee that my tale bumped one by Ike Asimov from the book. My name even made the cover, along with Arthur C. Clarke, Philip K. Dick and William Gibson. Wow. The story also appeared, I should add, in the Canadian science fiction magazine On Spec.
If you really love this tale, you’ll find it in my book The Reality Machine, which is available through my virtual “Book Store” (above)–you can also pick it up from Mark Ziesing Books, Amazon, abebooks.com, etc. Originally published in 1997, it contains some of my favorite short pieces, including “Also Starring”, “While You Were Away” and “RSVP”.
Now get reading:
Click here for a free download of my short story “NewWorldMan“
Finally, I have some new work to share with you. Recently I’ve been moaning about this being a blog that’s supposed to prominently feature my fiction, drama and poetry and, meanwhile, I’ve been debuting very little new material on this site for some time.
But that’s about to change.
Expect a flurry of stuff in the coming days and weeks, the product of many months of labour and struggle on my part. Oh, I could be one of those hapless dolts who loads every snippet of juvenilia, first draft and/or literary belch & fart on their site, seeking as much scant praise they can garner from sympathetic fellow wannabes. But I’m afraid I veer in the opposite direction, sweating out short stories over weeks, months, revising and polishing until the very thought of the tale in question makes me want to upchuck. Which, as you can guess, is an approach to writing that tends to play hell with productivity.
But when I do release something, it’s ready. It’s been through the meat grinder, Sherron has signed off on it, the end result microscopically examined and painstakingly dissected; I know that story or poem or novel like I know the inside of my own skin.
And that’s what you’re getting whenever I offer new work.
“The Innocent Moon” is my best radio play. Bar none. I put all I learned about radio drama into this little beauty. It’s the one I submitted to the BBC competition. Kind of hurt my professional pride when I didn’t make the shortlist but c’est la guerre. It would have been difficult to produce; very complex in terms of mixing as it involves “samples” from dozens of movies and newsclips and songs. You’ll see what I mean.
This sonofabitch took forever to research and pull together (as documented in previous blog entries). The final result pleased me beyond measure. I love the the flow and ebb of voices, the way it fuses together and perfectly illustrates my fascination (obsession?) with all things relating to space.
Click here to download free PDF of “InnocentMoon“
“The Innocent Moon” is dedicated to my chum and fellow writer and moon nut, Ian Sales.
…and to all of us grown up children of the space age.
When the future seemed so bright.