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Meta
Tag Archives: novel
Ephemera
“A photograph is a secret about a secret”— Diane Arbus Two snaps from a series of Polaroid experiments related to my novel, The Last Furies, forthcoming from Lost Telegram Press.
Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose, Publications
Tagged ephemera, experimental, lot telegram press, novel, polaroid, Prose, Publication, vanishing point
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Lost Telegram
I am happy to announce that I have signed on with Lost Telegram Press, a Canadian publisher, for the publication of my novel, The Last Furies. It is encouraging to have found a supportive home for what is an experimental, multi-form … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized
Tagged canadian publisher, experimental, handmade, Literary, lost telegram press, novel, old school, Publication
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Outlaw Country
“Outlaw Country,” an excerpt from my novel, None So Distant, published in Spare Parts Literary Magazine as part of their From the Desk series: Reports of fringy lore on lost highways. Point-counterpoint in a twangy battle of wills. Stay tuned. … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose, Publications
Tagged excerpt, lost highway, music, novel, outlaw country, Prose, Publication, words
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Fante and Bandini
Inferiority might have been your first memory. Though you were born on American soil, stubbornly planted there, the chinked chains of immigration clanked and rattled, Marley-style, tightening around your throat, as you butted your head against the scabby base of … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged 1930s los angeles, arturo bandini, ask the dust, bunker hill, Italian-American, john fante, la writer, novel, Poetry, Prose, words
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Through a Screen Darkly
(A review of Lisa 2, v1.0, by Nicholas Rombes) It begins in an irremediable present-tense, a limbo of cirrus and gray, in which the voice of a man, functioning out of narrative necessity, becomes spectral detective to the story of … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications
Tagged black mirror, book review, Books, calamari archive, disintegration, family, fiction, haunted tale, indie lit, kafkaesque, lisa 2, music, nicholas rombes, nightmare, novel, perception, tech nightmare, thriller
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Blue Star trilogy
After completing my most recent novel, Worlds Last Imagined, it, along with two other novels–No One Dreams in Color and None So Distant–comprise what I’m calling my Blue Star trilogy (2020-2024). The blue star reference pertains, at least in its … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized
Tagged blue star, Books, cosmos, dreams, film, lyrics to go, music, novel, Poetry, Prose, road trips, trilogy
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Cowpunk at the Purgatory Corral
Excerpt from my novel, None So Distant: We are out here on all fours panting in the sun the bleary merciless maraschino sun burning us. It has been a long while one of those spells that feels foreverish out here … Continue reading
Posted in Books, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged badlands, burning, cowpunk, excerpt, high desert, into the mystic, music, novel, photo, Poetry, Prose, purgatory, words
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Sea Change
Excerpt from my recently completed novel, Worlds Last Imagined. This fragment is a meditation upon the tenuous and subjective relationship between memory and fiction: She stood at a distance, imagining her daughter there, playing. She saw how her daughter lit … Continue reading
Worlds Last Imagined
New novel completed. Grateful for my Abiquiu retreat, where I got to balance work process, nourishing solitude and exploration of this area’s breathtaking beauty. WORLDS LAST IMAGINEDIn these time-bending, multiform chronicles,A) A pair of “tweeners,” the names given to metamorphic … Continue reading
Posted in Books, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged apocalypticbop, conceptual, craft, eigthnovel, manuscript, music, novel, process, Prose, retreat, speculativenoir, thewritinglife, words, yokoono
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Blue
I knew this. Even before I met her, I knew this. But she, as an explicit confirmation, as a caretaker and symbiotic mouthpiece to my unsaid secrets, said, and so concisely—Dreams come out of the blue, returning to the blue. … Continue reading
John Biscello 