I received some great news this morning — my colleagues over at The Bees Are Dead have elected to publish a short story of mine. Its title is “Shine Now, Fiercely, Forever,” and it is a science fiction/horror story about the perils of time travel.
The story should appear sometime over the next month or so — I will link to it here when it does.
Thank you, Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron and Dennis Villelmi! I am honored!
Calling all storytellers, poets, photographers and artists who harbor dark visions of the future in their hearts — submit your work to “The Bees Are Dead!” B.A.D. is an entirely new transatlantic webzine devoted to dystopian, futuristic and post-apocalyptic literature, and it released its first official Call for Submissions today:
The Bees Are Dead – Call for Submissions
I am honored to share here that I’ve been invited to partner in B.A.D.’s development with two friends and distinguished colleagues of mine. The first is Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron, and the second is Dennis Williamson. (If you’re familiar with my blog, then you’re well aware that I have long admired both men’s work.) As a third of “The Triumvirate,” I’ll be privileged to read and view your own interpretations of terrible days ahead.
So, please, visit the site, peruse our guidelines, and consider whether you might want to share any glimpses of the doomed worlds of your own creation.
Do it now … while there is still time.
Dead Snakes featured two outstanding poems on Monday by my friend and colleague, Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron. Readers of this blog know that I’m a big fan of his first collection of poetry, “The Pustoy.”
The poems titles are “Ode to Sabrina” and “Redsands.” The latter is titled after a real, abandoned, youth residential care facility in the author’s native Britain, and it’s accompanied by a set of moody black-and-white photos that he took there himself.
I love “Redsands.” Its final stanza and closing lines remind me of the ending of lines near the end of one of my own favorite poems, “The Shield of Achilles,” written by W.H. Auden and published in 1952:
A ragged urchin, aimless and alone,
Loitered about that vacancy; a bird
Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:
That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,
Were axioms to him, who’d never heard
Of any world where promises were kept,
Or one could weep because another wept.
Read both of Phil’s poems at the link below. You won’t be disappointed.
Thanks to Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron for sharing this poem by Warsan Shire.