Shotgun Exorcism

In a movie, no matter the genre, you will always become that which you were just pretending to be. So, this charlatan exorcist in The Last Exorcism, exposing exorcisms as fraudulent for a documentary crew, what do you think? In a horror movie, will he finally have to become a real exorcist, or might he get a pass, just get to grin his way out of the shot and go back to his happy life?

But I don’t want to spoil anything for you, either.

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Two More Novels

dzanc banner

Every once in a while, something especially cool happens. Like this — two-book deal with Dzanc, for Flushboy (2013) and Not for Nothing (2014).

Which, a quick sort-of breakdown:

Flushboy‘s what I wrote when my wife said I never write any love stories. It’s this kid, pretty much indentured into working the drive-through window at his father’s Bladder Hut, a drive-through urinal. Or, it’s him, growing into himself, becoming who he already is. Okay, okay: he’s me, when I was seventeen. Or maybe he’s all of us. I hope he’s all of us anyway, or else I’m all alone again, wearing my rubber gloves and diving mask behind that sliding window, waiting for these bank tubes of warm urine to splash my way. Just waiting to fall in love, with anything, with everyone.

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Living Twice at Once

Most directors can do one thing just really, really well. David Lynch, say, he can follow a telephone cord up and up such that you get all caught up in the languorous spiral, and that becomes not just the whole room, but the whole story. Wes Craven, he can rig a chase through a tight hallway so that, before it’s over, you’re looking over your own shoulder. Christopher Nolan’s gift—and, though it’s there in all his work, I hadn’t realized it until Inception—it’s ticking clocks. It’s giving the characters in his stories these deadlines, jacking the tension up higher and higher, yet never quite escalating into, say, the action-driven theatrics of Speed. Instead, he keeps that rush, that tension, all within the character—everything hinges on decisions, not developments. The decisions force the developments.

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The Fifth Element is Story

M. Night Shyamalan had his work cut out with The Last Airbender. Not only did he have to run with a different title than the original Nickelodeon series—thanks, James Cameron—but he also had to somehow condense sixty-one episodes (1342 minutes) into something feature length. Or, the trailers didn’t tell us otherwise, anyway, but let me happily spoil that for you: he doesn’t try to cram all sixty-one episodes into a hundred and three minutes. I haven’t searched it up, but this looks to be at least a trilogy. Wonderful. Only thing that would be better would be, say, a sixty-one installment series of theater releases, where the actors are fed some special hormones to keep them young enough to stay in character.

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Three Movies, One (-ish) Book

Or, “What I did with my yesterday,” yeah.

Book: PARKER: THE HUNTER. Pretty fun; very straightforward, and cool art. Though, the night before I was up until two or three in the morning, unable to look away from the second volume of SCALPED, “Casino Boogie.” I’ve always thought that SANDMAN or Y THE LAST MAN were far and away my favorite series ever — guess Y feels more ‘series’-ish — but, I don’t know. Completely in love with SCALPED. And maybe just because all the INCIDENT AT OGLALA stuff Aaron’s having fun with is familiar, so I’m part of the in-crowd here, getting the jokes, I don’t know. but the writing, the art, all of it — cannot wait to burn through the other volumes. Many many thanks to @Mike Hance for these reads, and for:

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All the Updating that’s fit to Update

ones that got away cover

New/excellent/killer/wonderful cover and isbn for the story collection, now called The Ones That Got Away.

Was lucky enough to be in the fifty stories Brian Evenson selected for Wigleaf.

Clutch of new stories over at Shadowbox, here.

New story “Sunsets Unlimited” at Hobart.

Review of Splice at the San Antonio Current.

I think I’ve got an entry coming up here, soon, about the book I’d like to be buried with. Though everybody else is doing such strong write-ups, maybe I should ask to go back, do better myself.

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Shirley Jackson Awards

So, these judges, they were all huddled together over pizza and beer, and they got to daring each other this and that (I hear there’s pics), and it finally came down to seeing if they could slip a clown into the novelette category, strictly for fun, because who could win again Stephen King and Laird Barron, right?

Anyway, will be my second time to be a finalist here, which is honor enough, really. See all the finalists here (including — twiceBrian Evenson).

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