A couple of years ago, after a career in publishing and editing, I decided to start writing. When I look back, my earliest editing project—self-publishing a small collection in university—was also a writing experience. Things, it seems, have a way of coming full circle. If you'd like to read any of these stories, just drop me a line.
Fiction › Excerpts
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All In
From the center of the room, I heard the riffle of cards. I shook my head. Baldy looked at me with surprise. “It’s empty,” I said, handing him the tub. A white vapor stream from the dry-ice inside escaped through a crack in the lid and slid down the side like an evaporating snake. Baldy set the tub under the desk with the other containers, then flipped to the last page of my stapled paperwork. “Everyone here is lung cancer,” he commented. Published in the May-June 2008 issue of Weird Tales magazine. Nominated for an Aurora Award. You can listen to it here courtesy of The Drabblecast. |
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Dead Regret“Yeah,” Tony said. “He’s a foreigner, we think.” “He’s a stuck up prig, is what he is,” Gus said. “Didn’t want to shake my hand.” “You should have slugged him,” Jo said. She propped her elbows on the counter, leaning in. “I almost did, Jo. I almost did.” Appearing in the anthology The Leonardo Variations from Prime Books in Spring 2009, edited by Jeff Vandermeer. |
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ArtifactHe reached down, laid his palm flat against the black surface, closed his eyes, and held it there. Circles, triangles, and rectangles slid across the inside of his eyes, retinal negatives ordering themselves according to some logic. A pattern of circles and dots seemed to hit on a child’s simplistic outline of a face: a large loop enclosing two bright specks and an oval below for a mouth. Davis stared, then the oval mouth flattened, elongated, and turned up its corners in the beginning of a smile. Currently with Interzone magazine; wish me luck. |
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My Wife Is Not a SpyMy wife is not a spy. She does have top secret clearance and, at times, I have first learned about an incident at work on our walk to the grocery store, out of range of the bugs it was best to assume were in the apartment. A guest blog entry at Ecstatic Days. |