Luminous, Almost Night and Making Monsters

Salut, denizens of Terra, this third planet from Sol! Things have been busy for this human citizen lately. For REASONS. So I’ll just get right down to this updatey thing…

http---www.pixteller.com-pdata-t-l-130610 (1)I’m happy to announce that next Monday, 7/13 (ONE WEEK FROM NOW ZOMG), I’ll be rolling out the cover reveal for Luminous, my piece to be included in The Book Smugglers’ First Contact series. This is so exciting, ya’ll! The pieces from the collection I’ve read so far are thoroughly for the WIN, and I’m proud to be a part of this fantastic roster. I’ll be sharing the cover and hype for Luminous starting Monday 7/13 and I promise you, I am so excited to foist this story and everything about it up on the world!  >:-D

14444I’m also stoked to announce that Almost Night, a collection of my creppy! spoopy! poetry will be available from Pine Float Press this fall. I’ll announce the publication date when it’s set, but for now, Sean Demory of Pine Float has released a teaser poem from the collection, and oh, sweet world, be wary. I’ll talk about the collection in more detail later, but for now know that poems of creeping dread snaking like kudzu over the seemingly mundane trappings of suburbia will hit (virtual and otherwise) shelves during the waning of this 2015 year and I could not be more pleased (nor can the eldritch horrors commanding the project into existence in the first place, ha, jk, really, sorta, heh…).

And now, I present to you, How To Make A Monster: Basic Recipe, a teaser from Almost Night:

HOW TO MAKE A MONSTER (Basic Recipe)

–Turn on your oven to 350 degrees then tune your radio to the hissing static between AM stations.

–Feel deep inside your yearning soul something that you can’t exactly name. Note that it writhes within your guts and whispers your name when you are not really sleeping.

–Experience a sudden keen and clarion sense of purpose. This purpose will drive you to find a small box with a tightly-fitting lid.

–Don’t forget to turn off the oven.

–Clear your work-space, sharpen the scalpel or box-cutter and gather the necessary crafting supplies from a local scrap-booking or auto-parts store. Biology labs suffice as well but only if they are funded corporately.

–Glue pictures of bones inside and outside of your small box and its tightly-fitting lid. Some good bones are femurs, ulnas, tarsals and metatarsals.

–(Mandibles provide the best results but this is only a hypothesis posited by lesser known experts in the field.)

–Paint the bone box with shellac to make it shiny, to protect.

–Scatter buttons or feathers or pennies or graveyard dirt inside the shiny box and shut it tightly.

–Cover the shiny bone and button and dirt box and its tightly-fitting lid in plain brown paper then secure package with kite string. This is a metaphor: tying up loose ends, nooses, ties that bind, sailor’s knots.

–Pick up the box and shake it to be sure there is still something inside. If you have performed the previous steps correctly, the rattling noise will scatter chills up and down your spine, your arms.

–Place the box outside your front door and forget it exists.

–Go about your business. Check the oven to make sure you didn’t leave it on.

–Sit in your favorite chintz chair worn more and more comfortably threadbare through the years and wait until the sun has set behind the neighborhood houses. Pretend you hear a knock.

–You hear a knock. Wonder now if you are imagining things then begin to feel a writhing in your guts, a whispering in your brain.

–Open your front door, slowly. You will find a box.

–Bend down, peer. Sniff but don’t touch. You cannot hear it ticking.

–Can you hear it ticking?

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