brothercyst: A recent thing

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

A recent thing

I didn't write anything new (anything that I finished, I mean) from November 2005 to January 2006. That's a long time. I was just revising old things. I hate revision, it is a process of diminishing returns in terms of the pleasure I get.

Lately however, I have written a couple new stories. One begins like this.

On the same page in the same story, which is called "Mammals," there's this.

This story is brand new. It hasn't been revised except for perhaps ten or fifteen sentences. I hope it gets published. But it takes a long time for anything to get accepted; by the time it gets placed somewhere, I will probably just associate the story with rejection and resentment. I want it to get accepted by the New York Tyrant.

I'm excited about this story. It's short, but it includes three things I've wanted to put in a story for a long time.

It also has a dog. I like dogs, particularly huge, woolly-mammoth-like dogs (though if such a dog had a human equivalent, I probably would hate & avoid that person) that look more like people in dog suits than actual canines. I have a thin scar on my face about an inch and a half long that a dog gave me when I was five. You have to look uncomfortably close to notice it.

In the first novel I wrote, the main character just finds his dog ripped in half one day, and he never finds out what happened to it. He simply finds his dog in two pieces.


The majority of people said...

You should publish the story on your blog. It will give people something to comment about, and the comments will make you feel glad, because somebody cares about you. Sometimes you will feel indescribably glad.

Then you will get more comments, and start to take them for granted, and your voice will become more distant and although the words you write will be friendly, there will be scorn behind them. And everyone will detect the scorn and be strangely attracted to it; they will flock to you as around a bully. You will begin to command.

Then you will get more and more comments, many from people trying to promote their own blogs because your blog gets many "hits." People will infect your blog like a virus. Yet, you will reason, even the virus people count as "hits."

Eventually your comments will level off, then start to drop, and you will be so filled with anxiety and bitterness you will think about deleting the blog when you really want to delete all the people from the world, and the world. But you will not, because you are addicted to your blog.

Or do we have to pre-order a book and link to bear parade to read your story?

Show us your story.

Thank you for the new blog.

NickAntosca said...

I'm at work.

I don't think I will publish "Mammals" here in its entirety. It's too long.

Most likely, I'll post very short stories here--stories under 500 words.

You can't pre-order my book yet, it will be months before it comes out. And I don't care if you link to Bear Parade, although I will say that I think "this emotion is a little e-book" is better than 98.6% (exactly that percent) of other poetry books that exist in the world.

Maybe I should "moderate comments." I don't want a lot of random shit here, just stuff about writing. Daniel Handler's story in the new Zoetrope is really good.


The description of the dog is eerily similar to descriptions of Sirius Black in the Harry Pottter stories; the fact that you closed by talking about a scar on your face makes me think that you have a sworn enemy who killed your parents. Or at least that your hair can be unruly at times. And you can do magic.

NickAntosca said...

Someone is described like that in Harry Potter? That isn't good.

I haven't read those books, except for part of one, which I didn't like.

Harold Bloom is wrong about them being bad for kids, or whatever he says. I once sat in on a class with Harold Bloom and he was so weakened and sick that he was talking for about five minutes before I realized he had started talking. And I was paying attention, and about twenty feet away from him. I felt bad for the guy, but I didn't take the class.