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Langston grimly watched the sad-looking clowns go through their routines. The dire moon, with its grey valleys and thin ponds of aquamarine goo, had enough difficulties, the inhabitants eking out an existence from mined stones and subsisting on common dehydrated fruits and flat slabs of compressed meat simulations, without being reminded of the drearier side of life by downbeat performances.

Moon Clown:

Continued: The Clowns of the Moon

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comfy reading

I was connected with an up and coming author through Twitter. His name is Brian Henry, and he seems like a pretty awesome dude. He introduced me to his science fiction/fantasy novel I Was a Teenage Ghost Hunter, which I was more than excited to read because I absolutely love the paranormal. I used to love watching shows like Ghost Hunters, and I am especially a fan of the 80’s classic movie Ghostbusters!! This type of book was right up my alley, and I can say that I was not at all disappointed. This book was hilarious, as well as scary with a lot of depth and creativity all rolled into one.

This story starts out with Devin, who is a low-key average teenager, except for the fact that he can see spirits. His friends start to notice that his ability, or his blanking out episodes, have started…

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When you can’t live up to your license plate

and your taco’s the color of burnt sponge,

your subscription to Beard Man’s expired,

and stray women in Kansas unfriend you

the empty Cheeto bag holds no response,

the deflated roadside doughnut gapes in vain,

no two red vagrants lean at the same stance

and small mammals expose drab rearward views,

the state is not the low road that you know

but another with less yellow and more stone

exposing legless fish to winter sun

and flattening viable cops to crumbs.

  1. Cuban cigar stub on guest pillow
  2. Bedroom TV tuned to Nick at Nite
  3. Your portrait of Uncle Xavier is turned face to the wall
  4. You have a huge Andrews Sisters hit stuck in your head
  5. Strangely erotic dreams of Andy Griffith.
  6. Inexplicable piles of doilies on nightstand
  7. Strong desire to attend Robert Mitchum retrospective
  8. Your closet smells like Uncle Toby’s socks
  9. You feel compelled to change your will to leave out Cousin Scooter
  10. Your roommate says a dead relative has been visiting you in your sleep

gilly918


Moody sixteen-year-old barista Devin Mulwray is doing his best to ignore bizarre manifestations at his job in the chilly Northern California town of Arcata. Already teased about his recurrent ‘phase-outs’, the last thing he needs is to get pegged as a guy who sees ghosts. It doesn’t help his state of mind that his boss is a sarcastic slacker, his single dad is always on the road with clients and local occult fan girl Nayra is spreading ‘ghost boy’ rumors about him online.


But when violent paranormal activity badly spooks teens at an abandoned estate, Devin’s pushed into investigating by his eccentric friends Clive, a budding composer, and Rex, a tech head excited by ghost hunting gadgetry. At first reluctant to get involved, Devin’s encouraged when Emily, one of the more empathetic girls at Grey Bluff High, is impressed with his daring.


Together the friends explore the creepy Rousten manor…

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  1. Has never won her fantasy football league.
  2. Favorite Avenger: Black Widow.
  3. Has a secret husband, Norris, in Provo, Utah.
  4. Predicted the Pilates revolution.
  5. She insists on making her own meatloaf.
  6. Her sitcom idea about a wacky British colonial administrator with a panther fetish was turned down by the BBC.
  7. Favorite Angela Lansbury film: Bedknobs and Broomsticks.
  8. Had a youthful fling with Bismarck.
  9. Has secret plan to be the first Queen in space.
  10. Her rap name is Lazy-B.

 

She devised an electronic cereal

that detected her lack of excitement

but the alternatives suggested were damp.

Somewhere beyond her fictional redwoods

stood the monumental Kleenex box,

decorative live mice nodding, adorning its corners.

They would pretend to chew her until

the moon, with its poor sense of timing,

approved the impregnable shapes

oscillating just beyond the glassine limit.

Then the desiccated milk, deprived of speech,

made a detuned rasp of false languor.

 

I planned a documentary about your regrets

but the interview subjects besieged me

until I found a culvert with an apathetic dog.

Glum five hour talks left me Scotch-thirsty.

The brass spittoons were irrelevant and

the fictional sheriffs bothered me less

than the obtuse pantaloons.

Somewhere a forensic submarine

made an expedition into a foreign malcontent’s

residue of Francophilia.

It was just like watching a cardboard crepe

sink into the empty tub, analyzing your

claustrophobic row of decisions.

The Chicken Diaries

A Short Play

Glaring sunlight pours through the windows of a Mexican fast-food chicken restaurant.

Two cooks in orange uniforms busily cook chicken on the grill.  At the counter, Pedro and Jorge stand by the register.  The restaurant is empty of customers.

PEDRO

The funny thing is, I don’t even like chicken.

JORGE

This lady yesterday, she wanted extra hot sauce.

PEDRO

(chuckles)

Yeah, man.  Bet you gave her the sauce.

JORGE

Yeah, man.

PEDRO

(sighing)

Some people, man, they come in, don’t even know what they want.  Makes me crazy, homes.  Order some two piece and I’m like, what’s your sides and they stand there like they don’t know what’s a side.  Do I gotta do the whole list for you?  Cole slaw, corn, beans, tortilla chips.

JORGE
It’s the same sides every day, homes.

PEDRO

It’s not like it changes.  Hey, today we got a 2 piece with corn tortillas and, oh shit, look at this crazy shit: candied yams.  Lima beans and bok choy.  Greek olive salad, homes.

JORGE

Some people don’t pay no attention. They don’t know what sides are around ‘em, what kind of chicken’s in the world, don’t even know where they are.  They be going out of the chicken place, man, which way to the mall, dude, I forgot?

PEDRO

Forget the mall, they don’t even know from the mall.  That shit is so past them.  It’s like, where’s my home, dawg? I don’t know which way in the street to go, I’m so out of it.

JORGE

They get their chicken, they forget how to eat it.  What part goes in the mouth, homes?

PEDRO

Hey, boss, do I eat this hard white part that’s all round and looks like a q-tip?

JORGE
What do I do with this rubbery part, homes, that slides around and gets slippery and shit?

PEDRO

Do I got to mash this shit up? Or do I put it on a chip?  What the fuck?

JORGE

Yeah, some homies is messed up.

(sighs, looks out the window)

There’s a lot of chicken in this restaurant, homes.  Some chicken maybe nobody will eat.

PEDRO

Word.

 

Pedro leans against the counter.  Jorge leans back against the wall, and straightens his name tag.

CURTAIN

Brian Henry INTERVIEW!

Blondie's Bookshelf

Guys! I got another interview with another author!

Brief history on Brian Henry: Author of Space Command and the Planet of the Bejeweled Concubines, House of Prension, For I Was a Teenage Ghost Hunter, and his most recent book, For I Was a Teenage Ghost Hunter 2. He has a PhD in English, and is a really cool guy! You can check out all of his books on Amazon through his author page by clicking here.

Now, let’s get on with the interview!

1. What got you interested in writing?

I’ve been writing stories since I was in 3rd grade or so.  The cool part was writing a story in class and then having the teacher read it and the other kids laughing. It was great being able to create something that other people responded to. I was always into just making up complicated stories and writing was the…

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