Reading Weekend & Being Brave

Hey y’all,

Happy (finally) springtime! It’s stopped being forever rainy and cold in Georgia, and I hope you’re getting some sunshine too.

I’ve been working sporadically for the past year or so on a poetry chapbook, and I corralled my courage and decided to make it known to the world. It’s called “Atlanta Millennium,” and it’s about Atlanta, love, dogs, running, depression, and trying to be a decent human in the 2000s. If you like words or any of those things, or you need a friend in book form, you might check it out. The digital version is available for $2.99 on Amazon, and you can read it for free if you’ve got KindleUnlimited. If that’s going to break the bank but you really want to read it and you’ll review it or recommend it to some friends, just let me know and I’ll try to get you a copy.

For a much shorter read (of exactly 50 words), you should check out Chip Houser’s “Beetle in her Pocket.” Chip’s work is borderline horror, and you may never look at a pageant the same way.

Happy springtime reading, everybody!

Weekend Reads

Two years ago, I read an interview in Hobart with my undergraduate advisor Brian Evenson. (Yes, go read it!) There’s nothing quite like being published in the same magazine that publishes your literary heroes, and I’m very excited that my nonfiction piece is part of Hobart’s online baseball feature.

Past Time is about baseball (of course) and about how things you once loved stay with you—even if you wish they might not.

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Happy weekend, everybody! I hope spring is treating you as well as it is in Atlanta!

Reading Weekend

To quote Sam Sanders, one of my favorite podcasters: Hey, y’all. (Check out his podcast “It’s Been a Minute” — it might be one of the best things you do all week.)

Since I’ve rediscovered that any moment waiting is an opportunity for words, I’ve been reading in my quiet moments more and more. One piece I enjoyed this week is Kayla Smith’s “Invisible Neighbors”. This story is  a nonfiction glimpse into rural Mississippi with a pinch of Stephen King horror. I wasn’t expecting the strangeness of Kayla’s story to linger as long as it has. The story itself tells of Kayla’s neighbors over years of Christmases, and each sentence sparks. For example, she opens the story by talking about her grandparents: “Paw Paw is practically deaf, but he still has eyes like a sniper.”

I hope your March waiting moments are happier than those of February.

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Obligatory disclaimer: I make no money off this posting, no matter how many links you click, and Kayla and I are friends. (The honor is all mine.)