I was living in New York briefly last year, and I gave a talk at Columbia. I thought they were the biggest bunch of dumbshit kids, they were all 26, 27 year olds. It was all about the identity of being a writer…. [I wanted to tell them] Learn the rudiments of storytelling, sir. Become less interested in the issue of identity, and talking about writing with other people, and get to the point of publishing a book.
And don't go for this shit about learning on short stories.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Q: What will be the greatest website ever built in the days to come?
A: Because it encompasses the brilliance, irreverence, puerile humour, entertainment value and philosophical wisdom found at www.footinmouthandheadupass.blogspot.com , yet outdoes it by honing its focus to a lazer-like precision. Plague Season will deal only with crime fiction, crime television, crime film, film noir, and true crime.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.
Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.
Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
'Who'll beyond the hills away?'
Towns and countries woo together,
Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.
Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and daylight slumber
Were not meant for man alive.
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Bill: Solid F2.
Melissa: See, now you have lost me again.
Bill: It's the Fujita scale. It measures a tornado's intensity by how much it eats.
Laurence: That one we encountered back there was a strong F2, possibly an F3.
Beltzer: Maybe we'll see some 4's.
Haynes: That would be sweet!
Bill: 4 is good. 4 will relocate your house very efficently.
Melissa: Is there an F5?
[Everyone goes dead silent]
Melissa: What would that be like?
Jason 'Preacher' Rowe: The Finger of God.
Melissa: None of you has ever seen an F5?
Bill: ...Just one of us.
[Looks upstairs, indicating Jo]
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
It's the hoariest cliche in film noir-dom, the femme fatale. At her best, she blends murder and seduction, corrupting the hero and throwing his neatly-ordered moral world askew. At worst, she's the cackling crone who always manages to produce a revolver when the hero's back is turned, usually from the folds of her shoulder-padded night gown.