Category Archives: Prose

Fiction in Taos

From the Taos Rag, July 2016    

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Review of Raking the Dust

A review of Raking the Dust for which I was most appreciative. “Gritty and serene, twisted and sweet, bizarre and weirdly relatable… this novel is magical surrealism and simple authenticity woven together in an improbably captivating tale. I was reminded of … Continue reading →

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Totem

   Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A pinch.    A pinch, breaking skin, spreading blush and heat.    She looked down—her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs; a concert of spirals, curlicues … Continue reading →

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Dust Bunny

“I went to the kitchen and fixed myself another drink. Then I went over to the door leading out to the deck and looked through its glass window. The sky, mottled and ominous, looked like it was on the verge … Continue reading →

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Interview on The Last Word

Podcast of my interview on The Last Word. Listen here. Show description: John Biscello, author, poet, and playwright. The writer’s life and work traces his odyssey from Brooklyn to Taos with a dose of magical realism along the way.

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The Last Word

Wednesday, June 15th @ 4pm (mountain time) I will be a guest on the radio program: The Last Word, Conversations with Writers, discussing the craft of fiction, discipline, surrealism, the virtues of the NYC subway system, the radical swing between … Continue reading →

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Flint

A scissored valentine walked into a hard case. The floor, a silent witness, held its tongue. It was one of those Sundays that was acting like a Tuesday. Scrambled eggs, jazz, and a wet book of matches. This wasn’t going … Continue reading →

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We’ll Always Have Paris

A review of Paula McLain’s The Paris Wife. Hemingway’s classic, A Moveable Feast, is a well-stewed blend of contradictions, much like the man himself. It is a crucible of a valentine, wrapped in vellum and barbed wire. Notorious for holding … Continue reading →

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Brooklyn Spleen

   We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did.    No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the lie and the audience buying it, nothing could ever … Continue reading →

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Red Herrings, Chinese Whispers

  Excerpt from my new novel Raking the Dust: Over the next couple of hours we compressed our lives into annotated and selective biographies that we laid on the table, right next to our drinks. That’s how D.J. came to … Continue reading →

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