If someone were to consider Chuck Howe’s entire approach to writing and storytelling on the strength of his collection of (very) short stories If I Had Wings, These Windmills Would Be Dead, they would probably decide that Howe is not a writer who deals in verbosity.
A title like Self-Published Kindling: Memoirs of a Homeless Bookstore owner is ambitious, to say the least. We’re expecting a lot from a title like that. We’re hoping Mik Everett is going to back up that promising title with a hell of a good story, and she does. Mik Everett lives and breathes the fantastic potential of literature. She believes in its restorative powers.
When I think of a story like the one Phillip Thompson writes about in his phenomenal southern noir novel Deep Blood, I think of Warren Zevon, specifically, a song called “The Indifference of Heaven.” One of the best-written songs in Zevon’s catalogue, “The Indifference of Heaven” depicts lost love, murder, and desperation across a landscape marked by bleakness and inexhaustible supply of loneliness.
With a background in Nightbreed and the first twoHellraiser films, you would imagine that Nicholas Vince at least appreciates horror. Judging by the ferocity, twisted charm, and inventiveness of Other People’s Darkness, it’s obvious that Vince’s interest in the genre goes far beyond mere appreciation. The stories in this collection show off Vince’s eye for grim details and the psychology of the terrified and the demonic alike. He devotes a perfect amount of space to each.
“The Planet is fine! The People are fucked!”
-George Carlin
I love that George Carlin quote, but I’m not sure how Mickey Z. would feel about it. The author/vegan/activist makes a strong case in Occupy This Book that it would perhaps be more accurate to say that the planet is fucked, but that there’s still hope for people.
"Are we having fun?”
That line appears several times throughout Michael J. Seidlinger’s The Fun We’ve Had, easily his most challenging and dreamlike novel to date. It is a question shared by the two characters that inhabit the novel’s unearthly narrative.
The artwork found throughout Bob Schofield’s The Inevitable June only hints at the kind of imagery the words actually create. That’s not to say Schofield writes lazily, or relies on the black and white illustrations to pick up the slack for work he’s unsure of. The prose that creates the erratic, decidedly non-linear plot stands fine on its own. So do the illustrations. Either could exist just fine without the other. We’re still better off for having Schofield bring them together to create the disarray of The Inevitable June’s landscape.
This is how William Seward Bonnie opens his collection, appropriately titled Studies. The concept of studying certainly applies to the 100 numbered poems that make up this book. There is a sincere concept throughout to understand loss, anger, love, fear, and other primal emotions, and to understand the motivations behind them, as well. This is done on a level that can be best described personal.
A quick look at the highlights of musician/author/actor Tim Dry’s career in show business suggests that a single autobiography probably couldn’t cover it all. Dry has been a fixture of music and film for the past several decades, forming the group Tik and Tok, and picking up a small role in Return of the Jedi. In recent years, he has made the shift to writing. He has an excellent short story out, is working on a series of novellas, and released an account of his experiences with the Star Wars fandom. Meanwhile, he’s still finding time for music and acting.
The work in Martina Newberry’s poetry collectionWhere It Goes is so breathtaking in its variety and originality. In how well it reminds us that our memories can be as wonderful and dangerous as the reality staring us right in the face. The task of picking a favorite piece is a daunting one. Choosing one thing inWhere It Goes that will illustrate in every line how well Newberry crafts intensely introspective poems is next-to-impossible.