Everything is Wrong

One of the best compliments I ever received went roughly as follows: "There's so much wrong here that a reader can't even begin to pick up the pieces."

No, it was not intended as criticism. To make a short story even shorter, the tale that sparked that comment involved a man without a head, a hobo decapitation, two neighbors and a ruffled flowerbed. The critic went on to explain that he meant that there was nothing in the situation the story described that allowed for an easy way to make things right.

And I love that, because I love chaos. There are any of a million stories where some problems arises and some person shows up to take care of it. They can be interesting. But what I really love is a story where nothing can be saved. Total chaos. Too many things wrong to even think of trying to right them. This is the kind of thing I mean.

While We're on the Topic of Beer

And because this is ostensibly a blog that deals with things like literature, now seems as good a time as any to mention English poet John Skelton.

Kind of reminds me of Prince.

Skelton was a poet in the late 15th to early 16th century, and tends to get overlooked. His poetry is not terribly complex, tending to be straightforward and musical. This is why I like him. With lullay, lullay, like a child is as good an example as you'll find. It's set in verse and could just as easily be a song. The word "lullay," which repeats, is basically another form of "la la la."

 

Beer is Good... and Stuff

This blog was mostly started as an effort to consolidate my flailing (no, not "failing" or even "fledgeling") literally career into one spot. As such, I need to keep reminding myself that this blog is min; it doesn't belong to a writer who happens to share the same name and needs to behave. If anything it's probably pretty dull because I've been cutting the rest of myself off to try and push one aspect.

So I'm here to talk about something I like.

"No nose? How does it smell?" "It Sphinx!"

Beer is often thought of as the drink of choice for  big dumb guys, which isn't necessarily wrong but doesn't tell the whole story. This is a beverage with a history. Hell, the ancient Egyptians were pretty heavy beer drinkers, and look at some of the things they made.

Obviously not all beers are created equal. I'm not here to praise the likes of Coors or Bud Light, though I'll admit to drinking the latter on those occasions when I just want something cold and bland as an accompaniment to a snack, or if it's all a friend has on hand at a BBQ. 

Nothing Much

Took the day off today to work on some other stories and get them out there. Tomorrow, I go to Connecticut. Saturday I have a few beers and watch Ong Bak 3.

Wait, is that IMDB rating right? D'oh! Well, guess we'll see.

Chugging Along

Latest edits of my novelette are now back in the hands of my project editor at Vagabondage Press.

My novel, "Up in Hell" (working title) is sitting pretty at about 59,000 words. Never dreamed I'd be able to put together a story this long and still keep interested. Damnit, I deserve a beer.