No, this week is not about being rejected by a beer that tastes like water… [Read more…]
From 1-1:45pm, I will present on the “Escape” Teen Stage (outside the DeKalb County Courthouse), speaking of bloody, bloody things. I will probably also read from I Hunt Killers. (And, yes, there’s a chance the infamous “Billy voice” will make an appearance…). I will also most certainly be taking questions from you.
After the presentation, I’ll mosey on over to a signing table, where I will sign books until my hands fall off. If you would like to see my hands fall off, I encourage you to come and have me sign a great many things.
PLUS: The first person in my signing to line to say, “Billy Dent was framed!” will get the ever-popular limited edition “KILLER Time” t-shirt for their very own!
Here’s some more info, if you like.
See you in Decatur!
When I was a kid, I wondered — not often, but I did wonder — exactly how Green Arrow managed to find just the right arrow in a quiver filled with them. I mean, dude would just reach over his shoulder and no matter what, he always snagged the right arrow at the right time: Boxing arrow, stun arrow, handcuff arrow, whatever.
Well, here’s how:
Pretty cool, huh? Though I don’t know why they go through all that “raised dots” stuff. They should just say, “He uses Braille.”
(From World’s Finest #282. August 1982. Written by Mike W. Barr. Art by Gil Kane.)
I don’t know when I got this one. And I don’t know how/why it’s torn at the top. I’m pretty sure I didn’t tear it — it came that way. I imagine the Subourbon Press (like so many other small presses) saved on rejection letter paper by printing multiple form letters on each sheet. And then tore the sheet in half to send me my rejection.
In case you can’t make it out, the note reads:
I loved this story! But I keep to a 700 word max for fiction; got any shorter pieces?
While I have occasionally dabbled in super-short flash fiction, I bet I never sent anything else in.
And I have to confess — it’s only now, literally years later, that I finally got the pun in “Subourbon Press.” I’m an idiot.
I actually hate talking political issues on my BLog for a number of reasons. One is that this site really exists as a space to discuss art. The second is that every time I do it — no matter how carefully I couch my words and no matter how nuanced my position — there’s always at least one jackass who (I can only assume deliberately) misapprehends what I’m saying and raises a stink. And because I’m just naïve enough to think that such people can still be educated, I end up wading into the muck with him/her.
Anyway. Enough of that. I feel the need to unburden myself a little bit today.