Not Short Stories Again!

Yes

As in 2009 and 2016. Both times I had specific goals. This go-around,  I intend to publish and LEARN. To teach this old dog a new trick, I've begun on microfiction (stories 100 words or less) and flash fiction (stories under 1k words).

I've always been enchanted by quantity. This time it shall be the oft-discussed quality. Since beginning last month, I've finished a trio of short fiction and sent it off to three publications. I should start hearing back around the end of spring. But the goal now is to continue finishing stories, trying new techniques and new genres.

Like I probably should've done in 2009.

Reedsy.com

Microfiction: Post-Op Blues

Pinterest

After surgery, few of my friends visit. I can understand why. I'm no longer a good conversationalist. My thoughts are now occupied with peanut butter and living inside the wall and munching wiring. I've already shorted out the toaster with my munching and my wife, who is given to long sad looks, responded with a crisp scolding. 

The doctors call constantly. Or, I should say, their assistants call and ask when I'll return for the rest of the procedure. My wife ferries a cell phone to me outside in the yard, as I now spend hours concealed in the ivy.  

In a high-pitched rapid voice, I inform the doctor's assistants that I feel used, a pawn of the health insurance agencies, since my post-op treatments will require decades of expensive medications and operations. All the pre-op love bombs and encouragement I received from TikTok are meaningless now.

My wife grows distant. She spends hours in the garage watching YouTube videos, then building something long and wooden with steel coils and a large metal bar. 

I can't be tricked. I'm more cunning than ever. But if peanut butter is placed on this device, I'll go it.

Matt McAvoy Reviews Death Honk Short Story Collection

Discount Pre-Order Now!

"Mac is a fine writer, with a tremendously twisted sense of justice, injustice and just desserts." —Matt McAvoy

Take a peek over at author Matt McAvoy's blog as he reviews Death Honk. My collection of mostly short horror stories—with a bit of crime thrown in for ballast—launches December 26 on Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble and other ebook emporiums. Discounted now in pre-order, the book's paperback versions are slated to release January 5. 

And if the mood strikes you, join my email acquisition effort and receive the Top 5 Dating Tips of H.P. Lovecraft. He was different, he was odd, he was a New England chick magnet. Stay plugged in as I labor away on volume two of my Hallow Mass trilogy. 

So many important things to mention, all involving myself and my writing. Now I'm tired, but must edit the formatted docx. for the Amazon paperback. Then rewrite the back cover author bio. Then update all the metadata on Amazon and Draft2Digital. 

Stay safe in this Chinese Covid madness. Today is the shortest day of the year. Tell a friend!

Facebook-Writing-Running Updates Galore

 Let's be clear: Facebook still sucks. I believe my Ad Blocker is the reason they're giving me so much grief of late. (This would be the Ad Blocker I've been using for years.) I can no longer administer my JP Mac Author Page without being told I need a new email. Once I change the email, I'm informed I need a new email. They task me, these beetling tech people, skulking behind their algorithms.

Look to the right of this page. You will see the title for Death Honk. My collection of nine short stories will go live on December 26. What an excellent chance to use the Christmas gift cards received from relatives too busy to inquire what you actually enjoy. Amazon goes live on that date. But thanks to Draft2Digital, there will be a preorder sale starting next week for purchases on on Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo and other sites. In the next few days I'll provide compelling information on how to interact with these mysterious, weird, shocking, humorous tales.

Now let your eyes stray down from the book cover. You will see a listing for Pages. There will be two listings. One will read: On the Road with JP Mac. After many years, I've created a separate page for my running updates. Visit, note the incidents, comment if you will. Change is in the air and in my pockets, jiggling merrily.

Story Du Jour #23

All Story Du Jour tales are available online and free! A small offering in these trying times.

Hike Up Mission Peak

Middle House Review/Height Chart

"Recovery Mission" - by Michael Cocchiarale  

Approx. 1k words

A slog with old friends seeks that which is past but lies between.

Here's a sample of the writing:

"Rocks crunch like breakfast cereal beneath Zac’s boots, and the sound transports him to the butcher block table of his childhood home. There’s a half gallon of milk, a box of Lucky Charms. A Christmas wish book between him and his brother. And there’s music, his mother feeling out a soft, sad number on the upright in the den. It’s a bit lachrymose, this halting tune, the product of a few lessons she’d splurged on in the fall, but it becomes more familiar as she goes. 

 The Michael Stanley Band. 

 Not really, although Zac can’t help imagining it. He turns the thin, vivid pages of the wish book, full of board games, action figures, and race car sets. In the other room, his mother’s fingers plink like rain, figuring it out as she goes. The chords rise through the house, into the winter air and straight up the charts. When Gary turns to him with a smile, Zac lets go of the pictures of dreamed-for toys so his heart can sled across the snow-smooth melody."

Note: Perhaps its time to swap out Du Jour with the French phrase for 'week or two' since that seems to be the publishing time frame. But nothing endures like the temporary. 

Story Du Jour #21

All Story Du Jour tales are available online and free! A small offering in these trying times.

Steve Powers

"Premium Harmony" - by Stephen King

Approx. 4K words

At a convenience store, a man confronts issues of life, death, and tobacco. 

Here's a sample of the writing:


"Ray looks at the gas gauge and sees it’s down to half. He could turn off the motor and roll down the windows, but then he’d really bake. Sitting here in the sun, waiting for her to buy a purple plastic kickball for ninety-nine cents when he knows they could get one for seventy-nine cents at Wal-Mart. Only that one might be yellow or red. Not good enough for Tallie. Only purple for the princess.

 He sits there and Mary doesn’t come back. “Christ on a pony!” he says. Cool air trickles from the vents. He thinks again about turning off the engine, saving some gas, then thinks, Fuck it. She won’t weaken and bring him the smokes, either. Not even the cheap off-brand. This he knows. He had to make that remark about the Little Debbies.

 He sees a young woman in the rearview mirror. She’s jogging toward the car. She’s even heavier than Mary; great big tits shuffle back and forth under her blue smock. Biz sees her coming and starts to bark."

A King tale from a decade ago. The man is not afraid to reference his own works.

Note: a fine non-fiction book review for the Google Archipelago inbound early next week. 

Story Du Jour #18

All Story Du Jour tales are available online and free! A small offering in these trying times.

Image by Willgard Krause

Teleport Magazine

"The Food of Life" - by Matthew B. Johnson

6,122 words

Conflicting thoughts on digesting a long life. 

Here's a sample of the writing:

"Doctor Percovic?” 

A gentle voice through dense cotton, she was unsure if she’d heard it or imagined it. Soft light began to brighten the world around her as she stirred. Something hard and cold pressed into her back and the backs of her legs. 

 “Are you alright, Doctor?” 

 She opened her eyes, surprised to find she was sitting propped against the wall of the shower. Her head feeling dense and heavy as cast-iron, she turned toward the voice. A face came into soft focus and a soothing hand reached out toward her. 

 “Don’t touch me!” she shouted, recoiling as Lazarus touched her shoulder. 

She tried to stand. Lacking balance, she simply sat back on her haunches, leaning against the shower wall for support. 

“Why?” she croaked.

 Lazarus turned a nozzle protruding from the speckled green tile. A cascade of warm water rained down on them, pulling Marion back to her senses. 

 “Why?” she shouted. 

 “Look at me,” Lazarus said.

Next, a review, then Story Du Jour #19.