"The Memory of a Salt Shaker"

My friend Bernie is a writer who does some good work in speculative fiction. "The Memory of a Salt Shaker" is a story of his that was nominated for the Million Writers Award last year and one that he recently made available as an e-book. (It's so weird to me that one short story still gets labeled an "e-book," but I guess until terminology catches up with e-publishing's possibilities, that's what we have.)  Anyway, if you think you might like reading about love, and magic in the real world, and all that fun stuff, consider giving "The Memory of a Salt Shaker" a read. You can find it for free through Smashwords by clicking on this link or for $0.99 through Amazon and the Kindle store by clicking this link.

/shameless promotion of friend off

Larks Fiction Magazine

Heya. Larks Fiction Magazine is a free weekly e-zine that publishes writing with a fantasy/sci-fi/speculative bent. This week's issue features one of my stories. Click on this link right here and scroll down a little if you'd like to read "A Story of Summer and Winter."

Many thanks to Daniel Pool and his team of literary fiends for letting me in on their fun!

"Holloween"

I woke up, showered, and made the coffee. I swept my knife over the surface of the toast slowly, as if it were a scythe felling wheat in the field, and dwelled on the idea that today is Halloween.

"It just feels like it came out of nowhere," I told Wes. I licked the raspberry jam from the edge of the knife, just because it seemed appropriate to do.

"Well, we've been kind of busy, though," Wes said. "I mean, you've been doing cover letters and interviews and working on your projects, so it's not like you've been slacking."

"I guess," I said, "but it really doesn't feel like a holiday now. It feels kind of empty."

"It feels empty?" he asked. "Or you feel empty?

I looked at him.

And then I looked down.

I saw everything that had once been soft and vital inside of me slopped unceremoniously onto the floor, like pumpkin guts onto newspaper. My chest and my belly had been scraped clean, right up to the thin walls of my muscles.

"No wonder I feel so hollow," I croaked. The jar of raspberry jam was still on the table. I wanted to vomit.

Wes stood. "What's the legend behind jack o' lanterns? Why do people put candles inside pumpkins?"

I stood to meet him. "They put a light inside to ward off the evil spirits that roam the world on Halloween and keep the spirits from taking them," I said. I gripped the table's edge. "I have nothing inside me. I have no light!"

"Go," he said, nodding, as I ran for the door.

Because I woke late, I would only have to wait a few hours for children to appear in their costumes and begin their holiday missions. I used that time to taste the air and kick up fallen leaves, hoping that doing so would provide kindling for whatever flame might find its way inside me. By themselves, though, those activities weren't enough. I needed the holiday; I needed its spark. I wandered the neighborhoods and prayed that I would see enough decorations and trick-or-treaters before dark to cause something warm to start in the pit of me. I didn't want to meet the spirits as they came through town, sweeping their scythes over the streets as easily as if they were buttering toast. I didn't want to be found without my light.

* * *

*shrug* That's what I came up with at the last minute. Happy Halloween!

Next Saturday the 20th! Tamale Hut!

Where the Sorting Hat placed me last night:

The important thing is that it had me at Open Books.

What's Going On (at least over the next week or so)

First of all, there's a Tamale Hut reading and open mic tomorrow night. 7 p.m. at 8300 W. Cermak Road in North Riverside. Be there and be... round, as audience members tend to fill their bellies with tamales while the writers read.

After that, Open Books is holding an event on Thursday, September 27. To celebrate the release of J.K. Rowling's new novel, The Casual Vacancy, they're throwing a party in honor of the huge influence of the Harry Potter books. There might still be space left, but this is definitely an RSVP kind of thing. I'll be reading a story! A band called Tonks and the Aurors will be playing! Geeky fun shall be had!

 Beyond that, I have no idea what's going on the next few days. Par for the course.

Details Observed While on a Train

Graffiti seen under a bridge near Blue Island: "Let the sheep roam free"
On the window of one of the Beverly area train stations: "Help!" (with an unhappy face and two hands drawn next to it)
On the warming shelter at the Gresham stop: "Go Teachers"

Seems like there's some found poetry waiting to happen in there somewhere. (Can we call it "found poetry" if it hasn't been found yet?)