Silky Smoove.

'Tis the season to be jolly. And I'm jolly. Why? Well, for starters I won signed copies of this year's Giller shortlist, including (drum roll?) an elusive first edition, first printing, of Giller-winner The Sentimentalists. Guys, only 800 of this suckers were printed. This one's signed. I'll probably put it up on eBay or Abebooks and auction it off, along with the other titles (I own most of them already). If you're interested in one or all of them, shoot me an email, message, homing pigeon, whatever.

Also. Also! Just got word that my story, "Something Comes Next," has been scooped up for publication by a journal south of the border called Silk Road. Which is pretty cool for reasons triplicate. One, anytime anyone who wants to read your work is cause for celebration. Number second, the story, lengthy demented bastard that it is, been trying to find a home for awhile. Plus it includes the following gem:

Q: Why did the girl fall of the swingset?
A: She had no arms!

(ha. . . ha . . . ?)

So it isn't really funny, but the line makes sense in-context. Trust me.

And reason C why this makes me happy: I've been having the crappiest week. Seriously. Too much negative stuff and one of my cats has suspicious marks on her belly. She'll be alright I think, but what kind of overprotective cat-dad would I be if I didn't have nightmares about it?

Anyway. Here is what the journal looks like:

Vanishing.

A story I wrote about a skinny person who's slowly disappearing will appear online at Scotland's The Waterhouse Review and in FCOL 2, a forthcoming print anthology from Ferno House Press.

It's funny, because the Ferno House logo is a house that's on fire, and the Waterhouse Review has an undeniable link to soaking wet buildings. You can almost see some kind of cosmic narrative at play here.