I wrote this in the summer of 2018. My car had broken down and I didn't have the money or much inclination to fix it, so I would walk home after work in the late evening writing in a tiny dime store notebook and occasionally walking into light poles.I thought it was pretty intense and sent it to a feminist magazine, but apparently they weren't into... um. Well. You'll have to figure out why you think they didn't like it yourself.…
From 2012. There's an actual date with this one, because I didn't edit it three billion times before tossing in the crap file. It was supposed to be a sequel to Dead Water, and, as with dead water, I was basically blowing off steam about the Christian Fundamentalist subculture that I had grown up in.I'm putting it here as sort of a full disclosure thing- this is how bad/ creepy/ un-woke that my writing was at one point. I decided that not giving it a final edit was perhaps the most telling; I found it in my crap file like this, a grasshopper in amber.If I recall correctly, there was going to be a third story. I read a news story about then where a copper sword had been stolen from statue of Abraham Lincoln. I decided that my creepily intrepid heroine was going to free herself and end up in its possession, and use it to... ? But I couldn't imagine what, back then, so there was no third story.The picture on the cover is Typon. A winged tentacled being who once fought the gods, was defeated, and imprisoned... *somewhere* and with whom the Gegentes were allied.I think I'm officially deciding to stop trying to decide what I'm seeing and where I'm seeing it.Everything is just Everything.…
I once wrote a flash fiction involving an immanent train wreck, a half Peri-half human conductor, suitcases, and an unnamed Octavia Butler acting as the metaphorically literal Prophet of God (because I felt embarrassed by coat-tailing on a famous minority author), and sent it to an actual literary magazine. Possibly because it wasn't as cool as it sounds (despite the characters possibly figuring out how to avert the trainwreck), the piece was not, it seems, literature.So one very late night, I demoted all of the characters to random LGBT persons and started mocking Harry Potter. Because that makes sense... if you're a MONKEY.Disclaimer, because not every one in the universe can read like a snake talks, I more or less identify with Apel. I was poking fun at myself and simultaneously getting imaginary vengence on the jerk editor who didn't like my obviously brilliant, hyperastounding mythopoem.Ha ha ha ha so there!I mean. I don't think it was probably that great, all else aside. meh.…
I wrote this in 2017-ish. Yes, its clunky, but that's on purpose. It's (supposed to be) like a set of uneven steps going up to a sacred place, where you have to stop and consider each step as you take it, to make your spirit pay attention.Turn on a recording of Les Pecheurs de Perles before reading.…
I wrote this after the election in 2016 because I was having nightmares about concentration camps.Then when it then came out about the baby jails, my brain kind of went weird for a little bit. After that I wrote The Prince Without A Kingdom.…
they that are rootless, uproot…
It's like Jesus in figging Sunday School. No matter what the question is, the answer is always Yith Body Snatchers.…
Shoggoths have a better vintage of Amontillado.…
Some history. Some myth. Some Lovecraft.Solomon decides to build a temple.…
A boy is taken from his mother and sister and tries to get back to them.…
An attempt at writing creepypasta.…
A man meets his aging enemy and plots the overthrow of the gods.Photograph by Chris Newbert. I own nothing.…
Originally written back in 2009 or 2010.When I wrote it, I was blowing off steam about the Christian Fundamentalist subculture I grew up in. It was like, they think the Catholics are evil and the Muslims are evil and the Jews are misguided and the Hindus worship demons and The Gayz are damons and on an on and on...Then I discovered Lovecraft, and I thought, HA! What if YOU are teh devils you're sooo scared of?!?!?And then I wrote this.…
The cult of a horror religion, as practiced in back rooms, isolated farmhouses, and daytime TV every single hour of the day you weren't paying attention.The crossroads of the reader and the read. A study of the narrative of literal narrative when understanding is not understood as an act of interpretation. The soul's bad habit of cutting.The mind's tendency to exile it's self when it gets lonely for the Noumena of itself. A story about Paradise.All characters and events are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely your fault.…
In the time of Adun, before the Nezarim were expelled from Auir, individual Protoss joined the rebels from many different tribes of the Khala.All of them had their own particular reasons for doing so.…
A person may use the present to escape their past.But if the past is forgotten, is it simply reborn?note: I added the pride tag for the character Irtul…