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Archive for May 2009

While The World Was
In Fact Sleeping

In Fiction on 31 May, 2009

The dingy bath­room he used when he woke up to take a piss was attached to his bed­room, and one thing in it stuck out: the clean glisten­ing mir­ror. It was the kind of thing only he could half-understand, why he would clean the entire bath­room very sel­dom yet clean the mir­ror daily. He saw that his hair was greasy and mat­ted to his fore­head; instead of shower­ing, he wanted to sleep more. He had the look of someone who’d been sleep­ing a long time yet wasn’t done.

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Fucked Word Things

In Poetry on 26 May, 2009

fuck­ing words things
words, fuck­ing each other
words fuck­ing them­selves
words look­ing at other words, think­ing about fuck­ing them
words think­ing about other words while fuck­ing them­selves
words think­ing about other words fuck­ing them­selves
words fuck­ing other words for cash Read the rest of this entry »

Smoking with Camus

In Process on 18 May, 2009

How do you write?
 
Writers are often asked about why they write, but often I find myself more inter­ested in how they write.

By ‘writer’, I mean a per­son who writes quite simply because they have to. They write because it’s a part of how they inter­act with the world. It’s as much a part of them as their freckles or per­ver­sions; it’s what they do.

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Check, please?

In Fiction on 2 May, 2009

Franz Kafka awoke one morn­ing to find him­self unpub­lished. This wasn’t much news to his fam­ily, who enjoyed passive-aggressively broach­ing upon his lack of lit­er­ary pro­spects, with respect to his sis­ter Ottla, a not­able online writer. He had dif­fi­culty rolling off his back. What he thought was exo­skel­eton was just crust from a night of drool­ing. He was not look­ing for­ward to breakfast.

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Jimmy Chen is pensive in bed

In Interviews on 2 May, 2009

Jimmy Chen is the swoon­some grey mat­ter behind Type­writer — a tick­lish new, mod­ern magic (but not in a corny way) selec­tion of little-in-size-not-content stor­ies recently pub­lished by Magic Heli­copter Press.

I cun­ningly con­vinced Jimmy to let me inter­view him, and I didn’t even have to show him my boobs. Score.

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Best Screenplay

In Fiction on 2 May, 2009

Oscar remem­bers only two things about Dr. Weisman’s office: a framed print of a water­color depict­ing a naut­ical scene, and a tis­sue box with hor­ribly rendered flowers.

– How was your week­end? Dr. Weis­man asks.

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