Month: October 2005

Note to Self

Must not forget – radio station, Monday morning — 10:45 or so.
If I forget, I shall turn my mini-musket upon myself with shame.


in sickness and in blurbs

I got an email from a very nice person here in ‘Nooga, and this email declares that there’s a good review of 4&20bb in the November issue of Fangoria. Naturally, the nearest place I know of whereupon I might obtain a copy is out near Hamilton Place, and I am home sick from work. I would feel quite guilty if, driven by egomaniacal curiosity, I were to drive all the way over there after declaring my intention to stay home and sulk into my soup. I’m not saying that’ll stop me, but it’s making the decision all the tougher.

I’m tired. I’m snot-filled. My ear hurts. But I have a new review out there! Eh. We’ll see how I feel after some chicken noodle and orange juice.

Here. Have a Halloweeny Spainy-picture. That’s a yawn, actually, and not a “death scream of unholy doom.” Pretty freaky though, that I let this little monster sleep next to my head every night.


The Hook

For Not Flesh Nor Feathers.
Sometimes, it’s the very hardest part — just distilling what you want the story to look like, down to a few paragraphs. Anyway, here’s the tentative copy I’m building from:

    Down by the river, the first to go missing were not much missed.

    They were a handful of homeless men foraging through trash, or nuisance skater kids who rolled their boards along the planked piers at night. Their small disappearances were not noteworthy enough to delay the city’s new downtown development project … and when the Waterfront Apartments were finally finished, Eden was one of the first to apply for a lease.

    But deep beneath the riverbank, the evidence of a terrible crime has now been covered up twice.

    When a prominent city official vanishes into the water, panic rises downtown. A TVA dam falters and the river swells; and as the Tennessee creeps over its banks, it dredges up death from its own polluted bed. Nineteen victims of a long-ago slaughter walk when the water rises, patrolling the banks and dragging the living down to a muddy grave. No one remembers how they died and no one knows what they want, but Eden’s aunt Louise suspects more than she’s able to explain.

    The river rose once before in recent memory, back in 1973. Louise was still a girl then, but in one awful night she learned a terrible truth about the things a river can hide.

    Some secrets are never washed away; instead they are patient, and they bide their time. They wait for the water to lift them again so they can prowl for the justice that was denied them ninety years ago. But in ninety years a city’s shape changes, and where justice can no longer be found, vengeance may have to suffice.

A little overdone and cheesy? Yeah, sure.
But it basically says what I want it to.