Tag Archives: fiction

Giant Killer

Posted on December 16, 2025 by John Biscello

The first thing Josie thought—He looks like Hemingway. The second thing—He reminds me of my grandfather. Knowing that Sir James (which was how he had introduced himself with a dramatic flourish—I, my dear, am Sir James) had … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged bar, fiction, giants, lost hours, Prose, small hours, story | Leave a comment

Girl in the Dark, Twice

Posted on November 28, 2025 by John Biscello

1. A girl in the dark, in a corner, spitting out sunflower seeds, spitting out sunflower seeds into the dark. Pppfft-pppfft, the sound her mouth makes when spitting, and the barely audible plip when the shells hit the … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged creation, dark, fiction, girl, magic, no story, Poetry, ponderance, Prose, seeds, shadows, speculation, story, vanishing | Leave a comment

Causeless

Posted on November 28, 2025 by John Biscello

We used to be called human, that is, our actions were considered human if we acted with compassion and mercy. Yet we have been killing and maiming and igniting wars since time immemorial … so isn’t that, based on … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged a.i., ai, artificial-intelligence, being human, creative spirit, definitions, essay, fiction, imagination, life, longhand, lost causes, process, Prose, speculation, story, technology, thoughts, writing | Leave a comment

Slight

Posted on November 12, 2025 by John Biscello

A young woman came to see me yesterday. I know it’s my daughter, yet something stops the word daughter from coming out of my mouth, any of my mouths. There is word-daughter and there is daughter-daughter and word-daughter is … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged archive, daughter, father, fiction, fragment, history, in progress, memory, pieces, story, storytelling | Leave a comment

A Moveable Freeze

Posted on November 12, 2025 by John Biscello

The first spots were discovered, and contrary to my sense of fiction, they had nothing to do with extraterrestrials or loneliness. Nor poverty. Soon, no exact timetable, but soon my memories would no longer be mine. I would no … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged fiction, fragment, in progress, memory, process, Prose, story | Leave a comment

Outpost

Posted on November 11, 2025 by John Biscello

They don’t know my name. Thank god. If they knew my name, they’d curse it, they’d turn it into meat scrap. The stories have to keep changing. And the characters. Or they will find us. I realize I am … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged arctic circle, brothers, family, fiction, fragment, Prose, sisters, story, storytelling, survival, work in progress | Leave a comment

Review in the Compulsive Reader

Posted on October 20, 2025 by John Biscello

Louis Greenstein’s review of The Last Furies appearing in the Compulsive Reader. Excerpt:“The Last Furies inhabits a shamanic, liminal world where fantasies, yearnings, and radio waves merge to reveal secrets of the universe and mysteries of the human consciousness. From … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized, Video | Tagged canadian press, Cinema, conceptual, fiction, fifth novel, haunting, indie publisher, Literary, lyrical, multi-media, surreal, text, The Last Furies, Theater | Leave a comment

Cover Reveal

Posted on October 20, 2025 by John Biscello

Cover reveal for my sixth novel, No One Dreams in Color, which will be published by Unsolicited Press in April 2026. I am thrilled that the cover features the artwork of Linda Stojak, one of my favorite contemporary artists who creates … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater | Tagged april 2026, book, cover reveal, dark, fiction, haunting, linda stojak, Literary, no one dreams in color, noir, Publication, shadows, sixth novel, surreal | Leave a comment

Scraps

Posted on October 14, 2025 by John Biscello

Each one of us are curating our own reality, our own collections. Philosophy is a crooked thumb trying to hitch a lift to the stars. I listen to the wind sing, but can’t understand the words. The No Trespassing sign … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged contemplation, dreams, fiction, fragments, language, music, philosophy, Poetry, reveries, self expression, solitude, story, vision, voice, wonder, words | Leave a comment

Kid in a Western

Posted on October 12, 2025 by John Biscello

He could feel his hand, an undertaker’s apprentice, rosy rash pecking out a tremolo in the palm’s moist center, a fluttery pulse, as his fingers massaged the handle. His fingers ever sensitive to the crushed pollen coating the handle (time … Continue reading →

Posted in Cinema, Poetry, Prose | Tagged americana, dimestore novel, fiction, gunfight, lore, myth, pulp fiction, story, The Kid, western, wild west | Leave a comment