Archives: January 2015

A Word From My Publisher

He’s a rat bastard, but that’s why we like him. Like Lou Grant, but meaner. Lifted from Grapnel Press January 14, 2015 Do Us A Favor and Don’t by Bastard Sonofabitch, under Rants “Writing is not about self-expression; it is about putting words on paper.” — Gordon Lish Listen. I am a son of a

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New Old Comics

For many years I drew underground comics. Some of them were published in various papers around Portland and beyond. This particular one features Boig & Bitty, and ambiguous couple largely based on myself and my then-wife Polly (an ambiguous couple if ever there was one). I like this one because it takes a simple gag and

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A Tuesday Poem

Instead of my usual 1100 word diatribe, here is a brief poem inspired by real events. That’s what you get when you live on a farm.   The Hogs Were Mad For Chocolate They milled beneath the window while she baked his birthday cake. They rooted the clapboard right out of the mud Next morning

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Heroes

Everybody has heroes. Baseball players, soldiers, fictional characters on TV and in movies. Hell, even actors (hear that, Humphrey Bogart?). Writers have heroes too, and not just Ernest Fucking Hemingway. Denis Johnson? Annie Proulx? Sure. I have a few. Michel Tournier, Trevanian, Patrick O’Brian and John D. MacDonald. But one of the greatest is Robert

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Barman Story

Sleep deprivation is a funny thing. It seems to change the quality of light, throw odd shadows, etch the edges of the world in sharp relief. I started looking at my world in a new way. I started writing it down. In 1998, I worked as a barman at Kells, getting home around four AM too amped

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Inspiration is Where You Find It

You know the drill. You’re late. You drop your egg into the pan and ruin breakfast, spill your coffee.   You ask the question. You know the question I mean. Why MEEEEE??? Who the hell knows? Maybe there’s a lesson in it. Maybe it’s random. Maybe there’s a Loving Divine All-Powerful All-Knowing Supreme Being who really

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Finishing the Goddamned Thing

You know when you see a movie where the protagonist stops in the middle of a crosswalk and there are few piano notes and the camera does a slow pull-in and the guy starts to smile? And then the music swells and there’s a montage of  typing, printing sheets, biting a pencil, crossing things out, going for

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Party Like it’s 1998

Here’s another one from September 1998. It was one of those long, end-of-summer nights that filled me with restlessness. I remember wandering all over downtown Portland, which back then still had its share of transient hotels and seedy dive bars. I was restless when I got home, so I fired up the giant 486 with

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May, 1999

Wind moves in waves too, you know currents (though you may not see them) cool your face ruffle your hair change your course as you walk down the hill A real howler cannot be ignored days ahead the plywood is nailed to windows protection at the cost of light but it’s only for a little

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