Pink
In other news, this place probably won't be updated anymore. Adjust your links, both of you.
Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Announcement!
My dear, dear Shayne is moving up in the world! She has officially launched her website, shaynewinters.com, AND has a new story called "Still Life" out in Nossa Morte. Her website looks beautiful, and her story is excellent, why not go and have a gander at both?
Love,
T.
Love,
T.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Periphery
Who gets to interview a rock star? I think I do.
Who's never done something like this before? I think I haven't.
Who's scared shitless? I think I am.
I'll give details after it's over and done with and I'm reasonably certain I didn't fuck it up. Until then, I'll leave this up as a tease, and because I'm excited, and felt compelled to spread the news. Just not all the news.
Who's never done something like this before? I think I haven't.
Who's scared shitless? I think I am.
I'll give details after it's over and done with and I'm reasonably certain I didn't fuck it up. Until then, I'll leave this up as a tease, and because I'm excited, and felt compelled to spread the news. Just not all the news.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Going Postal
T.: So...a 52 cent stamp should suffice on the SASE, right?
Shayne: That should be fine.
T.: Unless they decide to send me back a pipe bomb. "Dear Writer, We have reviewed your story, and decided not to publish it in our magazine. To prevent you from sending us anymore crap, we have enclosed a small but powerful grenade. Sincerely, The Editor."
Shayne: Well, they'll just have to pay for that themselves.
Shayne: That should be fine.
T.: Unless they decide to send me back a pipe bomb. "Dear Writer, We have reviewed your story, and decided not to publish it in our magazine. To prevent you from sending us anymore crap, we have enclosed a small but powerful grenade. Sincerely, The Editor."
Shayne: Well, they'll just have to pay for that themselves.
Sunshine and Lollipops
The last few posts have been downers, so I decided to try and think of something cheery to write here.
Then I remembered, I'm a crappy friend. My dear Shayne Winters has recently had a story published in an online magazine, New Voices in Fiction. Her story is called "One Night", it's very, very good, and can be found here.
That cheers me up, in either case!
Then I remembered, I'm a crappy friend. My dear Shayne Winters has recently had a story published in an online magazine, New Voices in Fiction. Her story is called "One Night", it's very, very good, and can be found here.
That cheers me up, in either case!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Compensation
Shayne: Try these guys next. They're one of the fastest markets out there, pay a $25.00 flat fee, plus a t-shirt.
T.: Sold. You had me at 't-shirt'.
T.: Sold. You had me at 't-shirt'.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Blind Recommendation
"Tis better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all? No. Tis better to have never met certain people in the first place."
-Kurt Daniel Glowinski
I'm not up at all on current poetry. I don't usually find it all that interesting, and because of that, I've no idea how to evaluate what's good and what's bad. Most people will yap at you that it's all subjective anyway until you say you like ________ poet, and then they'll loudly call you on your stupidity.
I stick to reading poets who are dead.
Still, let me take a moment to recommend Narcissistic Personality Disorder by that guy I just quoted above. I've no way to tell whether this set of poems is particularly good or not, but I can say that they will speak to anyone who has been in a relationship with a chronic narcissist. For those who have been, perhaps it will speed the healing process to know that you are not alone. For those who haven't been, maybe you will see how abusive relationships like those hold together. Or maybe the poems will be useless to you.
Poetry's pretty useless anyway. Unless it's Dr. Suess.
-Kurt Daniel Glowinski
I'm not up at all on current poetry. I don't usually find it all that interesting, and because of that, I've no idea how to evaluate what's good and what's bad. Most people will yap at you that it's all subjective anyway until you say you like ________ poet, and then they'll loudly call you on your stupidity.
I stick to reading poets who are dead.
Still, let me take a moment to recommend Narcissistic Personality Disorder by that guy I just quoted above. I've no way to tell whether this set of poems is particularly good or not, but I can say that they will speak to anyone who has been in a relationship with a chronic narcissist. For those who have been, perhaps it will speed the healing process to know that you are not alone. For those who haven't been, maybe you will see how abusive relationships like those hold together. Or maybe the poems will be useless to you.
Poetry's pretty useless anyway. Unless it's Dr. Suess.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Rock-a-bye baby
Anyone else experience night terrors? They're really most uncomfortable. Even the ones that involve you waking up and seeing Hannibal Lecter in your bed, and quoting Dante to you over a string quartet.
Especially those ones.
Next time, I'll put on the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack before I go to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up next to Johnny Depp.
I can dream, can't I?
Apparently I can.
That's the point.
Get it? Funny, huh? Get it? Do you?!
I need a hobby. Like writing or something.
Especially those ones.
Next time, I'll put on the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack before I go to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up next to Johnny Depp.
I can dream, can't I?
Apparently I can.
That's the point.
Get it? Funny, huh? Get it? Do you?!
I need a hobby. Like writing or something.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Secret Identity
If ever I feel the need to publish under a pen name (I currently feel no such compulsion), then I've determined that my name will be Alex Fawn Timfly. A bag of candy for anyone who solves the intricate mystery of the name*. And in all my works published as Timfly, I will use this as my author bio pic:
In other news, no longer having my pet around, I can no longer mask my insanity, and have become reconciled to the fact that I just talk to myself most of the time.
It's a good life.
*Shayne is excluded from this. She knows too much. And the mystery is not that intricate. Have you read the Da Vinci Code? Yeah, I'm sorry too. Anyway, it's not much trickier than that. You don't care anyway.
P.S. Yeah, this is supposed to be a writer's blog. I may or may not have a story twitching anxiously in the inbox, or possibly even on the desk of the editor of a sizeable horror magazine.
In other news, no longer having my pet around, I can no longer mask my insanity, and have become reconciled to the fact that I just talk to myself most of the time.
It's a good life.
*Shayne is excluded from this. She knows too much. And the mystery is not that intricate. Have you read the Da Vinci Code? Yeah, I'm sorry too. Anyway, it's not much trickier than that. You don't care anyway.
P.S. Yeah, this is supposed to be a writer's blog. I may or may not have a story twitching anxiously in the inbox, or possibly even on the desk of the editor of a sizeable horror magazine.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Frisky
As long as I'm already a blogger, I might as well do everything I can to be irritating as possible. So here's an entry about my pet.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Peer Pressure
Today, someone apparently found this site by Googling 10 whacks with a wet noodle. That is so funny I currently cannot breath.
And since everyone else is doing it, here are my disorganized thoughts on the TTC strike:
So, the surprise TTC strike this weekend set off a great flurry of well-thought out and carefully weighed opinions, particularly on the internet and its various "blogs".
Just kidding. We're all jackasses.
I was just as toweringly pissed off about the strike as anyone else, and as I aimlessly surfed from faceless LJ to faceless blog (having nothing better to do as most of my weekend plans were effectively destroyed, except for my market-going plans with Shayne as I would and have happily jumped through hoops of fire and flown motorcycles over rows of rabid tigers to hang out with her), I found an increasing number of bloggers, some of whom could even spell, advocating an "alternative mode of transportation", biking.
I have nothing against people who bike, some of my best friends are bikers, but you know what? I like the public transportation system. I especially like using the public transportation system that I'll pay for either way whether I use it or not. Plus, I'm a terrible bike rider, can hardly walk a straight line let alone bike one, and the idea of wobbling through Toronto traffic where I might have to face drivers as ditzy as I am is highly unappealing. Sorry, but if I'm going to be put in a position where I have to play chicken with a pick-up truck, I want the odds stacked in my favour, thank you. I'll take the bus, rather than rely on a couple of pounds of aluminum, a plastic helmet, and worst of all, my reflexes and common sense, to save me.
This is not to say that I'm hog-wild about buses, trains, and cars either. If it were up to me, automobiles would be banned and we'd all go back to riding horses everywhere. In fact, if I ever run for mayor, that is what I'd base my entire campaign on. That, and recreating Toronto as a polyandrous society. This is how it would go:
"Mrs. Maxwell-Depp-Englund-Townsend-Lee, crime in this city is out of control. What is your plan to reduce the crime rate?"
"FREE PONIES FOR EVERYONE!"
"Mrs. Maxwell-Depp-Englund-Townsend-Lee, how do you plan to handle the city's financial crisis?"
"ALL TTC BUS DRIVERS WILL BE RE-TRAINED AS FARRIERS!"
I think I'd win.
Where was I? I was thinking about ponies. Oh yeah! Biking.
To win me over to the side of biking as a viable method of transportation, the following conditions would have to be met:
-someone would have to find me one of those old-fashioned bikes with the giant front wheel
-I would also require a green velvet hat with a wide brim and a white ostrich feather
-pantaloons (these I can provide myself)
Yes, I wear my Beetlejuice pantaloons as regular pants, big whoop, wanna fight about it?
Really, when you can wear pantaloons in public, who needs sex?
Okay, I will stop making jokes about pantaloons now*.
Anyway, picture it: I'd sail along Yonge St. to work everyday, towering above the cars. I'd pull up at an intersection next to an eighteen-wheeler, look into the cab at the driver, and give him a big thumbs-up and a grin. Then I'd go find a Smart Car and circle around it like a vulture all the way down the street, just because I can and my front wheel would be higher than its windshield.
I'd have to somehow rig speakers to the bike, so I could blast Scott Joplin rags and old-timey circus music too.
Anyway, there's my list of demands. Bikers, your work is cut out for you, win me to your side!
* Lie
And since everyone else is doing it, here are my disorganized thoughts on the TTC strike:
So, the surprise TTC strike this weekend set off a great flurry of well-thought out and carefully weighed opinions, particularly on the internet and its various "blogs".
Just kidding. We're all jackasses.
I was just as toweringly pissed off about the strike as anyone else, and as I aimlessly surfed from faceless LJ to faceless blog (having nothing better to do as most of my weekend plans were effectively destroyed, except for my market-going plans with Shayne as I would and have happily jumped through hoops of fire and flown motorcycles over rows of rabid tigers to hang out with her), I found an increasing number of bloggers, some of whom could even spell, advocating an "alternative mode of transportation", biking.
I have nothing against people who bike, some of my best friends are bikers, but you know what? I like the public transportation system. I especially like using the public transportation system that I'll pay for either way whether I use it or not. Plus, I'm a terrible bike rider, can hardly walk a straight line let alone bike one, and the idea of wobbling through Toronto traffic where I might have to face drivers as ditzy as I am is highly unappealing. Sorry, but if I'm going to be put in a position where I have to play chicken with a pick-up truck, I want the odds stacked in my favour, thank you. I'll take the bus, rather than rely on a couple of pounds of aluminum, a plastic helmet, and worst of all, my reflexes and common sense, to save me.
This is not to say that I'm hog-wild about buses, trains, and cars either. If it were up to me, automobiles would be banned and we'd all go back to riding horses everywhere. In fact, if I ever run for mayor, that is what I'd base my entire campaign on. That, and recreating Toronto as a polyandrous society. This is how it would go:
"Mrs. Maxwell-Depp-Englund-Townsend-Lee, crime in this city is out of control. What is your plan to reduce the crime rate?"
"FREE PONIES FOR EVERYONE!"
"Mrs. Maxwell-Depp-Englund-Townsend-Lee, how do you plan to handle the city's financial crisis?"
"ALL TTC BUS DRIVERS WILL BE RE-TRAINED AS FARRIERS!"
I think I'd win.
Where was I? I was thinking about ponies. Oh yeah! Biking.
To win me over to the side of biking as a viable method of transportation, the following conditions would have to be met:
-someone would have to find me one of those old-fashioned bikes with the giant front wheel
-I would also require a green velvet hat with a wide brim and a white ostrich feather
-pantaloons (these I can provide myself)
Yes, I wear my Beetlejuice pantaloons as regular pants, big whoop, wanna fight about it?
Really, when you can wear pantaloons in public, who needs sex?
Okay, I will stop making jokes about pantaloons now*.
Anyway, picture it: I'd sail along Yonge St. to work everyday, towering above the cars. I'd pull up at an intersection next to an eighteen-wheeler, look into the cab at the driver, and give him a big thumbs-up and a grin. Then I'd go find a Smart Car and circle around it like a vulture all the way down the street, just because I can and my front wheel would be higher than its windshield.
I'd have to somehow rig speakers to the bike, so I could blast Scott Joplin rags and old-timey circus music too.
Anyway, there's my list of demands. Bikers, your work is cut out for you, win me to your side!
* Lie
Friday, March 28, 2008
Mingling
Not that anyone who reads this knows my phone number, my e-mail address, or what I look like, but I'll be at Ad-Astra this weekend. Legend has it that if you look into a mirror and call my name three times, I will appear by your side.
Now, guess my costume.
Now, guess my costume.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
