2014 – August 20 – Musical Moments
On the 20th we’re reading “Musical Moments” by Sally-Anne Macomber.
To: Milton Flaxmill, Red Cow Publishing
From: Trudy Polaris
Date: August 20, 2014 8: 03 a.m.
Re: Creative Tension
Phew! I am just back from rehearsal and am brimful of energy so I thought I would write to you again Milton . Fortune favours the fortunate (is that the saying ?) so I have decided to burn the Tyrolean voodoo dolls and make my own fortune.
Yes, the unsinkable Trudy Polaris is back for another installment. Last month I wrote: “Reading this storyline is like downing three packs of Skittles and a can of Mountain Dew while Continue reading
2014 – August 19 – Unravelling
It’s the 19th, time for “Unravelling” by Gay Degani.
Sybil is naked in her bed, sleeping off Margaritas, her windows open because of the heat, the air as dry as ash, wildfires in the nearby hills sucking up oxygen. The shouts are part of her dream – a dream in which she scrambles down the corridor of a speeding train, children and old men blocking her way. She leaps over dogs, shoves conductors into seats, then finds herself clinging onto a window ledge outside the passenger car, sand and wind blasting, mountains hurtling, and all the while, there is yelling, yelling, and now barking…
The Old Road series has been quite impressive in Continue reading
2014 – August 18 – Wounds
The 18th brings “Wounds” by Stephen V. Ramey (reviewed by Andrew Stancek).
“Hey, Mac, wake it up.” Something prods my side. A tinted window blunts the light, but the sun is still hot on my face. I turn away from it.
This month’s instalment in Stephen Ramey’s tale is called “Wounds” and our protagonist Stephen absorbs one wound after another. An unfeeling bus driver hassles him; a fellow street person mugs and stabs him. A voice, perhaps a friend’s, calls him by name, but Stephen continues to run and run.
No doctors, no family, no affection – he still finds himself unlovable, unworthy of human feeling.
2014 – August 17 – Peace and Utter Joy
It’s the 17th and we’re reading “Peace and Utter Joy” by Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz.
A ‘Back-to-School’ event at the restaurant / bar where they work keep Aaron and Mora from making the meeting. It’s Sunday besides. Diane has suggested that she and Phil take in a movie.
“Not in the mood for death and drinking,” she tells him.
The Suicide Club cycle has been quite interesting. We’ve seen a group of loners bond over their mutual desire to die, an outsider inspired to commit the ultimate act, a budding relationship. Last month I wrote: “We may not be witnessing a lot of death, but we’re surely Continue reading
2014 – August 16 – Endangered Species
It’s the 16th, and we’re reading “Endangered Species” by James Claffey.
The granite of the church sparks diamonds in the sunshine and the Bird takes a good look all round to make sure nobody’s watching. He undoes his fly and streams his widdle into the outside holy water font. Quick as can be he slips his mickey into his pants and before he can zip up again a lorry slams on the brakes and he almost topples into the font with fright.
Reading James Claffey’s work is like watching a master painter. A splash of color there, rolling brush strokes there, oil upon oil upon oil until what appears bears no resemblance to Continue reading
2014 – August 15 – Eighth Inning
It’s the 15th, and we’re reading “Eighth Inning” by Michael Webb.
I am standing outside, on the tiny balcony of my hotel room, feeling the breeze come in from Lake Michigan. Below me, taillights race away down Lake Shore Drive, Friday night lovers hurrying to a tryst, parents rushing home to see children off to bed, families headed off for the weekend. I watch them drive, standing there in a t-shirt and shorts, thinking about Don Henley’s lyric that somebody’s going to emergency, and somebody’s going to jail.
I’m a Big Ol’ Five on the scale of baseball fandom (yes, that’s a Big Bang Theory reference), and this is Continue reading
2014 – August 14 – Jerrod
On the 14th day, we’re reading “Jerrod” by Len Kuntz.
Outside of Akron, driving a beater car on Interstate 71, I pick up a hitchhiking dwarf.
Just when I think this series has hit its ludicrous max, it surprises me again. This is no ordinary dwarf our protagonist picks up.
“Where’re you headed?” he asks.
Jerrod laughs, a huge I-just-fucked-your-wife-in-the-ass-last-night laugh.
“Come on, man.”
“Okay, how about I’m on my way to Akron. You?”
“Akron,” he says, disappointment scrunching his forehead. “Sure, Akron, that’s my target as well.”
So we’re both drifters.
Many questions ensue, the dwarf prying for useful information, our mid-life crisis man parrying for all he’s worth. He Continue reading