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  • Thinking Out Loud (Online Lit Zine Idea)  

    I’m still kicking around the online lit magazine idea. I haven’t made any plans yet, just thinking it over. I did ask one editor a question about submissions, but other than that, haven’t made any progress on it.

    But I thought today would be as good as any day to put out some ideas and see if any of them stick.

    First, I still don’t have a name for the thing, and knowing me, it will be the last thing I do. What I have been thinking about is calling the project an “online lit zine.” Calling it a “magazine” sounds too ambitions and serious. Now, calling it a “journal” is a bit too pretentious, even for me. And then there is “zine” which feels a bit closer to the spirit of what I am attempting; which at this moment is not a whole lot, but “zine” does leave the door open to being funky and eccentric. Also, the first professional thing I ever got published was in a Dallas music zine, so it’s like an ode to my beginnings.

    I have also been thinking about the format of the thing, and publication in general. My first idea was to publish a flash piece a week, you know, and email it out to subscribers – like most online magazines do. I would like to get away from publishing an issue once, or several times a year. I prefer the idea that someone would submit something, I like it, it goes up right away. I prefer the idea of speed and immediacy. I am sure if and when I do this, I will come to understand why you should take your time and wait months and months after accepting a piece, to publish it. But as of right now, let’s get’em up! (Shoot now, ask questions later!) It would be cool to post five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, and give around 260 writers a slot.  

    And I have to sell schwag on the site. I mean, is there any other way for an online lit zine to stay afloat? This does go back to needing a catchy name, co-opting an appropriate attitude. Then I would have to make runs of products limited, and over charge for them. Unless you get published on the site, then you would get it for free.

    Okay, I’m going to roll this over in my head now, and see what sticks.

    This might be a mistake, but feel free to drop a line sharing what you think works or doesn’t work when it comes to online lit magazines.

    And while I’m at it, like and subscribe you freeloaders.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Goodbye VICE, WONKA Disaster Documentary, and Disc Golf

    (Locks clipped nightly)

    I never trusted VICE. I remember watching an interview of Shane Smith, the co-founder, on Charlie Rose of all places. The two things I took away from his word salad answers was that HE was the only person who could save media, and HE was the coolest person on the earth. (You know, “He’s hip! He’s cool! He’s 45!”) Turns out VICE was never profitable, though it was valued in the billions, and all Smith was good at was convincing VC’s to give him millions over and over again. As for the media, they did what everyone else does; the C-Suite got paid millions while the staff was paid virtually nothing, and they put out tons of content- quality be damned – to drive up traffic. I do feel for all the people who lost their jobs, just like everyone over at BUZZFEED, and all the other writers at all the media companies. In the end, Shane Smith got what he really wanted; he’s rich.

    I’m not here to dog pile on that Scottish “WONKA Experience.” There are tons of great takes out there, so I won’t embarrass myself in trying. But I have started to wonder; How long until someone produces a WONKA Disaster documentary? I think it took two years for the Fyre Fest to get the treatment, so my guess is that in nine months we’re gun’na hear from the Oompa-Loompa bartender lady about what really happened. (UPDATE: The Fyre-ing of this has started)

    For me, it’s almost disc golf season. I have no idea if there is an official disc golf season, my guess is there is, but I view March as the start. I’m looking to make par this year, as I have never done that, it seems like a reasonable goal.

  • Leap Year

    Today is the Leap Year Day. My kid is very excited about it, and I think her school is doing something to “celebrate” the occasion. I get the excitement, as I remember when a kid was, at this odd occurrence that happens once every four years. You know, like the Olympics or a Presidential Election.

    When I was her age, we debated over and over again about people who were born on the Leap Year Day, how they would get robbed and only have a birthday once every four years. Or how they couldn’t buy beer for at least eighty-four years. I’m sure if we knew somebody who was born on the Leap Year Day, then we could get all of our questions answered. But being that we didn’t, these questions were left up to a continuous debate that only raged quadrennially.

    Even right now, I could Google it and get an answer. Honestly, why would I do that? Why would I kill all the fun?

    A big part of childhood is being confronted with these conundrums of life, and then trying to puzzle your way out of them. Most of the time they were solved by asking an adult, but first there was always the debate on the playground, or on the bus, or at the lunch table. There was always a kid who had a cousin who was born on a Leap Year who had to lie about their age to get a drivers’ license, and if the cops found out that they had lied, they’d go to jail. Or if you stay up three days straight, your heart will explode and die. This one kid’s dad was in the navy, and that why there are three shifts on a ship, so everyone gets a chance to sleep and no one will die.

    My daughter was telling me some rather strange and far out explanation about people and their birthdays when it falls on Leap Year Day.

    Good to know that kids are still kids, even in this day and age.

  • Short Story Review: “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed (Translated from the Danish by Martin Aitken.)

    (The short story “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed appeared in the March 4th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Henning Wagenbreth

    “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed is a competent story. I believe that it accomplishes what is was created to do – fulfills its purpose of being – puts forth an idea and illuminates on it. Yet, it just didn’t feel like it came together.

    In short; Kevin, a ten-year-old from the wrong side of town, walks to the right side of town during a rain storm to sell stickers door to door. Kevin comes to a home wherein the couple that lives there knows who Kevin’s father is, a local drunk, and what Kevin’s father has done, had some sort of accident with a car while eneberated. The man plays and toys with Kevin, insulting the boy, which Kevin doesn’t fully pick up on, while the woman tries to shield Kevin from this form of shaming. In the end, the man gives Kevin a large amount of money for the stickers and sends him on his way.

    I say that the story accomplishes what it was after, as it makes it’s points about class, money, generational shame, moral superiority, the lack of understanding, and societal bullying. How some people think they can get away with abusing others, and then pay them off and all is forgiven. I even understand the shame that Kevin feels, and the conflicted emotions with being given money by someone who insulted him. I see all of that, and those issues are important.

    But I am still left with the feeling that it didn’t all come together, and that’s what I am still puzzling over. I think the short quick answer is that no one learns anything in the story – the status quo continues. The man doesn’t change, he still feels morally superior. The woman, though annoyed at the man’s actions, isn’t going anywhere either. That leaves Kevin, and though he contemplates how much rain makes a flood as he waits out the storm in a graffiti covered bus shelter, he doesn’t display gaining a new understanding which would allow him to return home changed.

    That just makes this a story about a “happening” between characters.

  • The Nap Backfired!

    I just want to sleep forever somedays.

    I just took a fifteen-minute power nap, which normally does the truck of zapping me back to normal. But today, my nap back fired in my face.

    I didn’t get a great night of sleep, and I was up early as the kid needed to be at school early. Then there was alt side parking, and grocery shopping, and I made lunch for me and the wife.

    As I sat on the couch to eat with her; WOOSH! All my energy just sloughed off and out the door.

    Thus, I thought the power nap would do the trick.

    Now, I’m just sitting on my bed, forcing this out because I will stick to my… Habit? Routine? Goal? I can’t even think of the word that I want to use…

    Anyway… I just have the foggy head, and everything seems a little far out of reach.

    I am beginning to see that Mondays and Tuesdays are difficult days for me to do all the chores, blog, journal, write and read. Something has to give, and I always pick working on fiction as the disposable one.  I’m not sure what that says about me? Or if maybe it says nothing about me and I’m just over thinking everything? Should I forgive myself, and try again tomorrow? Or is this one of those “you only got one shot at this life, don’t waste it,” moments?

    I should do dishes and pick up the kid from school.