Q and A at Julie Morrigan's Blog

I sat down recently with Julie Morrigan for a little question and answer session about writing, Lost Exit, and the world of publishing (she makes me sound almost coherent).  You can check out the interview here.

She's also got some other Q and A's with writers and creative types like Paul D. Brazill, Chris Rhatigan, Charlie Wade, and Iain Rowan that you can check out.

More Updates About Pushcart Prizes (and Literary Whatnot)

For the second time in less than two weeks I’m honored, flattered, and humbled by a Pushcart prize nomination….

I’ve just been notified by Kate Pilarcik (publisher of "At the Bijou"), that my short story WHO’S GOT THE ACTION has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize in literature (You can read it here).

What makes this one special and fun is that some of my fellow nominees are not only friends, but writers whose work I greatly admire like Joseph Grant, Anthony Venutolo,  Eric Beetner, and Sean Patrick Reardon.  It’s great to share the stage with them.

Some times you just run out of words…..I’m truly honored and flattered.

Fisticuffs, Palookas, and Noir

The November Noir feature over At The Bijou continues to roll along even as the calendar slides out of November and into December.  Up for the next couple of days is my story BEFORE THEY FALL - a tough, gritty homage to boxing and the less than glamorous aspects of the sport.  The Fisticuffs, Palookas, and Noir showbill featured Anthony Venutolo's AN UNLIKELY PARTNER last week, and will soon showcase a new short story from LA Detective and writer Paul Bishop.

You can read BEFORE THEY FALL right here.

Pushcart Prize

I'm honored and tremendously humbled that my short story, NO TEARS FOR CRYING has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.  It's flattering to not only be nominated for the literary prize that honors the best "poetry, short fiction, essays or literary whatnot" (especially the whatnot part in which I clearly fall), but one that has recognized the work of some of my heroes like Junot Diaz, Raymond Carver, Tim O'Brien, and William Monahon.

You can read the story here

Thanks very much.

November Noir Update

An update on Noirember AT THE BIJOU (as rechristened by Harry Sanderford).

Some excellent stories so far this month, including today's feature from Joe Grant.  Joe is a long time friend and as part of the AT THE BIJOU feature I got the opportunity to take a minute of his time and ask him some questions about writing, writing, and dead Russian writers.

Check it out here

November Noir

Check out At The Bijou tomorrow - my story "Love Struck Trouble" will be part of the initial November Noir lineup, along with Graham Smith, Julie Morrigan, and Chris Rhatigan- more great writers will follow all month.  It should be a great month with some killer stories from excellent writers (this will be my attempt at channeling a little Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler).

You can read At The Bijou right here.

And you can read my story here

Be sure to check back all month At The Bijou for some great stories....... 

Adopt An Indie

LOST EXIT is one of the books that will be featured during November’s “Adopt An Indie” Month.  You can check it out here

“Adopt An Indie” is about bringing authors, readers and book bloggers together to dispel some of the indie myths and show readers that “if you’re missing indie, you’re missing out.”  As part of the month-long event, readers will be able to talk to published authors and learn about their experiences while authors will be able to find out what really matters to readers and if they really care about the ‘indie/SP/small press’ labels.

You can find out more info about AAI and all the books featured!

Thanks to Donna Brown for including Lost Exit.

Fiction Daily

My story "CANDY'S SMILE" from A Twist Of Noir was featured in yesterday's Fiction Daily in the genre section (thanks to Paul D. Brazill for flagging that for me).  If you haven't yet checked it out, you can find this story as well as some other great fiction at:

http://fictiondaily.org/

FictionDaily

fictiondaily.org

Good Stuff To Read In Places You Wouldn't Normally Look

10-60

Over the past few years I’ve written stories about 9/11 and its impact, especially on those of us who lost friends, neighbors, and people we knew.  With the 10^th anniversary of the attacks this Sunday I’m re-running one of my stories written about that day (part of the collection: THINGS WE LOST ON TUESDAY ).

Hardly a day passes that I don’t think about that day, friends who are no longer here, and what so many have sacrificed and lost since then.

          It looked like snow falling from the buildings but in reality it was raining flesh; the streets were covered in it as Fire Fighter Michael Stone rushed into the South Tower and headed up the B stairs with five others from Ladder 10/Engine 10.  Over his handie-walkie radio Stone could hear “MAYDAY’S” as they joined other fire fighters and climbed the stairs, pushing past single file lines of evacuees streaming down from the lower floors.  Everyone was reasonably calm considering the chaos inside the building although Stone was scared about what he would be facing – when he had entered the Tower it looked like at least fifteen floors were burning and he had never seen a fire that big; Stone didn’t know how they would ever get it under control.  Around the twenty-first floor they came upon a pregnant woman taking the stairs one step at a time and one of the Lieutenants from Engine 21 told Stone to get her down while the rest of Ladder 10 kept going up.  Stone had the woman wrap her arms around his neck so it was easier to carry her; there was a mixture of fear and panic in her face and he gently reassured her that everything would be okay.  He thought of his own wife, due with their first child in a few weeks, and wished he had called her before entering the building to let her know everything was alright so she wouldn’t worry.

MY HOLOCAUST

Nick Triplow has a new site: STATUS STORIES (which features short fiction in 100 words or less).  One of my stories: My Holocaust, is up there - you can also check it out below:

My Holocaust

My father left when I was two – just walked out the front door and never looked back.  I grew up in a world suddenly different than the one my friends shared, shaped by something that had been out of my control, but carrying a pain that stayed with me forever.  I spent too many years emotionally crippled, chasing the shadows of ghosts I hoped could fill his space. 
I could never erase the longing.
The emptiness lasted a lifetime.
I wish I could explain to my own children why I left their mother, but those words never come out right.

SOUVENIRS

My newest story: SOUVENIRS is up this week at Jeanette Cheezum's CAVALCADEOFSTARS.  You can check it out at:

http://cavalcadeofstars.wordpress.com/

Thanks to Jeanette and her readers for debuting this story.

The Times They Are A-Changin'

My latest post/rant about the WSJ, publishing, and noted author and literary giant from The Jersey Shore - Snooki is up at SLIDING DOWN THE RAZOR'S EDGE.  You can check it out at:

http://slidingdowntherazorsedge.blogspot.com

SLIDING DOWN THE RAZOR"S EDGE

I have a Father's Day post up at my other site (Sliding Down The Razor's Edge) entitled Dear Dad.  You can check it out at:

slidingdowntherazorsedge.blogspot.com

 

Thanks (and happy Father's Day to the men who are their for kids - whether they are fathers or not).

THE LONG WALK HOME

I posted a new story over at Six Sentences last week (a little different fare than the usual blood, guts, and violence indicative of a Kevin Michaels story):

     We were in the fourth grade the first time I walked you home that cold, rainy October day after one of the neighborhood kids had picked on you, and I promised to always be there to protect you.  By the time high school rolled around I walked you home from the bus stop every afternoon, pretending I needed help with my homework, looking for reasons to talk while working up the courage to admit I wanted to be more than friends.  During a summer break from college, I walked you home that same day the doctors said there was nothing more they could do for your mom; I held your hand and let the tears fall, remembering the promise I had made that afternoon in grammar school.  And for years, after long, hard days at work I walked you home to the house we shared, unsure how we would pay all the bills yet still have something left in the bank to build a future, but certain about the depth of our love with the strength only the young or the foolish possess.  We raised five kids, filling our house with love, laughter, and many more good times than bad, and each night after dinner when we walked up and down the neighborhood streets before turning for home, it felt as good as that first time I walked you home.  Now an emptiness surrounds me with each step I take on those same streets filled with memories of our conversations, and an overwhelming loneliness comes over me while I hold you close in my heart and walk home alone.

Thanks for checking it out-

NO SUCH THING

            It was barely past noon but it felt like nightfall.  The pine trees formed a thick, dark canopy over the winding dirt road – sunlight barely pierced the cover of the branches in spots overhead.  Burnt, stunted, twisted pygmy pine trees with multiple trunks dotted the sides of the road, needles shooting out at odd, random angles.  A few feet past those trees, beyond the scrub oaks, moss, and ferns, sand pits that could swallow a car the same way the Bermuda Triangle consumed ships were hidden by the underbrush.  And in other spots the ground was still scorched black from the fires three summers earlier.

            Dance grit his teeth as he steered the Jeep down the road.  He hit every bump and ditch hard enough to lift him out of his seat, no matter how slowly he drove.  His shoulder banged against the roll cage as he jerked the wheel back and forth, trying to avoid the ruts carved deep in the sand but it was useless.

            He hadn’t been down this road in a few years; probably not since the fires.  It was his bad luck to be the only deputy on duty when Sheriff Cole called.

            “Need you to swing by Tilden Brown’s place,” the Sheriff had said.  “He hasn’t been seen in days.”

            “So?  Nothing unusual about that.”

            “His Momma’s starting to worry.  Ain’t like him not to show.”

            “Probably just lost track of time,” Dance said.

            “Maybe,” Cole said.  “But I still need you to drive out there and make sure everything’s okay.  You never know what that boy is into.”

            That was what worried Dance.  Everything about Tilden was trouble.  He just hoped this didn’t have anything to do with the meth lab Tilden kept on his property.

Check out the rest of the story at:

http://pdbrazill.blogspot.com

Guest Post - No Such Thing

I'm guesting over at Paul D. Brazill's excellent site: You Would Say That, Wouldn't You?  

Head on over there and check out my story NO SUCH THING, which is being featured at:

http://pdbrazill.blogspot.com


Thanks!

5 X 5 Fiction

A short time ago Angel Zapata launched a new site for writers called 5 X 5 Fiction.  A simple and cool premise: complete stories exactly 25 words long, told in exactly five sentences, with each sentence exactly 5 words.  The first issue entitled Murder, Monsters, and Misfortune is out with stories by some great writers who are not only friends, but whose work I thoroughly admire.  My own story, Bleed it Out was also included.

Take the time to check it out at:
http://5x5fiction.blogspot.com/

WHO'S GOT THE ACTION (featured - At The Bijou)

Recently I was invited by Absolutely Kate Pilarcik to be a part of a fun new series of stories featuring the Rat Pack (Sinatra…Dean Martin…Sammy Davis….how cool is that?) at At The Bijou. With a cast of great writers/talent: Eric Beetner, Paul Brazill, Julie Morgan, Sean Patrick Reardon, Anthony Venutulo, Kate, and Robert Randisi headlining the action, it was a no-brainer. My first story – Who’s Got The Action - kicks off the collection with a little tale about friendship, loyalty, and the 500 Club in Atlantic City where Sinatra was known to hang out (and Martin and Lewis got their start).

You can read it here at:

http://at-the-bijou.blogspot.com/2011/02/rat-pack-revue-whos-got-action-by-kevin.html

BUY THIS BOOK OR I'LL SHOOT THE DOG

With the release of LOST EXIT last week, I’ve taken the next step in a long journey. In some ways, writing the book was the easy part – the hard work of growing an audience, building demand, and increasing sales for that book starts now. The next few weeks will be consumed with book reviews, ARC’s, blog posts, and press releases (while waiting for Oprah to call….). While all that is going on I will still be writing – moving forward with three or four short stories that I’ve committed to writing and plunging into my third book. Time was never a friend but for years we maintained an uneasy balancing act and tenuous alliance. Going the independent publishing route has changed that dynamic but I’m okay with that.

As always, there are critics. I’ve been told that I’m going to lose focus, worse, that my artistic vision will suffer.

Artistic vision and voice are very important as a writer, but exposure is equally critical. Writers write but we also want to get our words and stories in front of as many readers as possible. You can’t rely on somebody else to do it for you. You need to make it happen yourself – take every opportunity to find that audience and get every reader’s attention by any means possible. Every one of us who writes is confident people will fall in love with our words once they read them, but first you have to convince someone to pick up the book and shell out their cash to read those words. That means doing what you have to do to create a buzz, find an audience, and sell your books.

Writing is a business. Plain and simple. Always has been and always will be.

You can’t change the world if nobody hears you.

BOOK STORES ARE DEAD AND I KILLED THEM.....

Recently I decided to go the indie route with the release of my first novel (LOST EXIT). It wasn’t an easy decision, especially since I consider myself a traditionalist – I love book stores, enjoy the feel of an old hard cover in my hands, and get tremendous pleasure browsing the aisles or discovering a previously unknown author. As a writer I followed the path millions had taken over the years: querying agents, submitting manuscripts, looking for connections, waiting months for a response (if one even came), and trying to beat the odds to get published. But like many other writers, I have realized that this business model is dead and no longer works. The future is e-publishing. Aside from the ease at getting books into print and the benefits of making more money, e-publishing allows writers to get their stories to market much faster (and isn’t that the goal of every writer: to get what we’ve written in front of readers…).

A few days ago while wandering the aisles of a nearby bookstore I struck up a conversation with another customer. Before long it came out that I was a writer, and within minutes the conversation veered towards the topic of e-publishing. I listened to her condemnation of Kindles, Nooks, Ipads, etc. but offered my opinion that as a writer I believe it is a viable and realistic option. Her expression of horror was followed by one of outrage then indignation. She loudly proclaimed to everyone that it was my fault that bookstores as big as Borders and as small as the independent store on Main Street were crashing and burning…….

I never knew I had that kind of power.

Time to face the future: the same way that the music business has gone from vinyl to cassettes to CDs to downloadable songs….and the same way we have transitioned from quill pens/ink wells to ball point pens to typewriters and then laptops, publishing has to change and evolve. I don’t see too many people driving 1957 Chevy Bel-Airs any more, and the cars on the road today have better features than what our parents and grandparents drove -writing, like transportation, is all about going from one place to the other faster, quicker, and more efficiently. The publishing industry has to move forward, and I’m ready to be a part of that evolution.

So yes, I’m the one who killed book stores……I only wish I had done it sooner.