1989, a novel

Posted on by Head Wombat

By order of her majesty, Queen Taylor of Swift, all artistic endeavors henceforth shall carry the title “1989.” It is highly recommended, in the decree, that the works either repeat, verbatim, Her Royal Highness Swift’s lyrics from the inaugural 1989 work or at the very least follow a similar story arc.

1989, a cover
1989, a cover

Luckily, my novel (formerly titled “William Murphy’s Trip to the Quiet Room“, which was formerly titled “Butterfly“) happens to involve the year 1989 in a significant way.
Laura Murphy, wife of the ex-hockey player, is a plumber, and the demonstration of a work-in-progress project at their home results in an explosion that sends her, her daughter, and her best friend, Eli Whitney (great great granddaughter of the inventor of the cotton gin) hurtling back to 1989 while William and a blacksmith (I can explain, I swear) have to sift through the rubble of William’s life to try and get the family back together again.

Which I think it’s safe to say is sort of the subtext of Taylor Swift’s 1989 album.

 

I Haven’t Died Yet

Posted on by Head Wombat

I am still alive, and still kicking the old agent hunt down the road.

Hits for the opposition
Hits for the opposition

The scoreboard isn’t looking particularly good at the moment (who knew an empty, soul-sucking void could hit like that?), but, at the very least, I’m still at bat, still working on the next thing(s), so who knows?

 

I also don’t have anyone else in the batting order with me, so this baseball analogy, never minding the fact that there are three competitors in the game and I don’t seem to ever get any more balls or strikes pitched to me, is a little stretched, at this stage. So, so tempted to dig out the old Sane Magazine t-shirts (which you can still buy, by the way) and fire up the internet hamsters at SaneMagazine.com for old times’ sake.

 

Update: Score one for the agents!

15...
15…

Review: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Posted on by Head Wombat

Station Eleven
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Oh man, oh man oh man. I loved this book.
In fact, a few weeks after finishing it I was sitting on a concrete step watching a concert below on the stage, backdropped by the sun setting over the water. It was a little cool and the clouds leaked towards the horizon, turning grey, and I thought to myself, “I remember those days when we watched concerts by the water and life was pretty much perfect just before the apocalyptic plague hit.”

Station Eleven
Station Eleven

The book see-saws from the future, in which we don’t get concerts like that any more, to the present day to the past loves and lives of Arthur Leander, the actor, and wraps the strands so tightly together, so well, and it just adds to the sense of sadness at what was lost. I loved the writing, the plot, the structure of the book, everything.

In the edition I got (from Hughes & Hughes by the river in Ennis) it came with a sheet, on which two pages from the graphic novel, Station Eleven were printed. The book is by Miranda, one of the people nearly lost in Arthur’s wake and the book, which only exists in a very limited print run, is a central totem to the book (which you might have guessed, from the title).

If you like the dizziness that a David Mitchell book can inspire (like, say, The Bone Clocks), this is a book for you. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.

One-Minute Time Machine – Sploid Short Film Festival

Posted on by Head Wombat

William Murphy’s Trip to the Quiet Room involves a little accident with a time machine that rips a family apart, so the subject matter is near and dear to my heart, and Devon Avery (@Dir_Devon_Avery) and Sean Crouch (@Seanecrouch) and crew have a sweet (sweet and a bit salty, so cover the kids ears while you watch) little story about time travel of a different sort than building a contraption in your bathtub to take you back to the 1800s.

Check it out here or on Gizmodo’s Sploid Film Festival page:

One of my Favorite Things: Small Can Be Big

Posted on by Head Wombat

One of my favorite things is the website SmallCanBeBig.org, which raises small chunks of money for families in need. Their big idea is that you don’t need to give a lot to help someone out.

SmallCanBeBig.org

Quite a while ago I was able to help them edit/write some stories for the folks who needed some sort of help or another (you can, too, by the way) and they occasionally put out a call for writers to help them tidy up the descriptions of a family’s situation, as handed in by a case worker. Some of the stories are just heart-breaking, and it could so easily be your feet those metaphorical shoes are on — it makes me thankful for what I have.

I just cleaned up a case for them for the R. family, who have a son undergoing treatment for leukemia and are trying their damnedest to keep things together for him and his siblings. Go check out Small Can Be Big, help out the R. family, if you like, if you have a couple bucks to spare, maybe skip a coffee or two, or maybe consider joining they cast of writers, ready to help get a family’s story across.

Update: The R. family got their rent! But there are still plenty of families worth giving a few bucks to, if you’re into that sort of thing.

My Constant Little Unheeded Reminder

Posted on by Head Wombat

Some of you know me from a little magazine I used to write and publish every Sunday (and then later every Monday).

Sane Magazine Write and Publish
Still bugging me after all these years

Well, you’ll be happy to know that, though I’ve given it up (never to return?), that I still get bugged every single Monday at a little after midday to write and publish that dear old friend.

 

 

Of course, the pairing of writing and publishing in one task may give you an idea, if you’ve never read it, of the sometimes uneven quality of the writing and stories.

Sane Magazine’s archives now live at http://www.sanemagazine.net (a highlight reel is available in my short fiction resumé so you don’t wade through too much muck), and who knows what will ever show up again at SaneMagazine.com?

Lockjaw Magazine: Choose Your Own Adventure

Posted on by Head Wombat

So I wrote something for the folks at Lockjaw to include in their in-progress Choose Your Own Adventure story.Birdcage

It’s short, sweet (ish?), and will bring back fond memories of reading through countless possibilities and keeping one, two, three, four fingers stuck in pages where you mean to go back and fix the mess you wound up in.

Start at the beginning, see if you can find it… otherwise, for the lazy amongst you, feel free to jump to the bottom of this post to get the direct link of an out-of-context piece of the story that likely will make very little sense at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As promised, the direct link to my particular piece of the puzzle.

Ah ha! Fooled you… or, some of the other contributors did, as they didn’t turn in their pieces on time… so the story will be published tomorrow. In the meantime, read the story, see where you think I may have wound up.

 

UPDATE: At long last, the link! Or at least a link to something to help you decide whether or not you’ll actually click on it.