I apologize. I haven’t been writing (creatively) lately- except for a few poems / prose excerpts here and there – because I haven’t been in that creative mindspace since September. I have even fallen off the NaPoWriMo bandwagon this year. Hard.
No, I haven’t been depressed (because that would actually help me write!), but I have been consumed by life (both academic and personal). Consumed in very rewarding ways, if I may add.
Why this mea culpa? Well, today is the three year anniversary of my blogging journey. It’s only natural to be self-reflexive.
Last year, I had typhoid visiting. An unannounced, unwelcome guest. This year however, I am going to celebrate in style. I have the champagne (a birthday gift from some of my Gender Studies friends). The dollar store wine glasses (alas, they didn’t have the appropriate ones). A sexy somebody to celebrate with. Oh, and a new fiction piece (my best piece yet) to share.
My short fiction piece, “Portrait of an Ex-Lover,” is in Rose Red Review. You can read it here.
Cartoon by Bruce Eric Kaplan, New Yorker
Sometimes, it is the most unusual that is the most attractive.
My flash fiction piece, “The Scar” (audio), is in 4’33” Magazine. Hear me read it here (check out # 56). P.S. It may not play properly on Google Chrome.
I am not a believer of love-at-first-sight BS. Lust, perhaps.
How can you love someone you just met?
But stranger things have happened, I am told. Cynics have been converted into believers, and then reconverted into cynics.
Or maybe, I am just sick of writing sad stories.
My short short, “Dance Off” (in One Forty Ficton), was written in a moment of weakness. My first ever attempt at happy endings. Read it here.
Yes, I actually own this book.
I am not pulp. Pulp is not me. What I mean is… I don’t do pulp, never did. Not even when I picked up Tamil Pulp Fiction Vols. I and II on my recent trip to India (out of curiosity, of course).
A contest, however, caught my eye. Challenged me not only by its word limit (100 words or under), but also by its genre. Yes, “pulp” it was.
My non-pulp pulp fiction piece, “Emerald Eyes” (which is exactly 100 words!), for Dr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure’s Summer Contest Series No. 1: “Hurley Pulp” can be read here.
Dreams are for dreamers. Sometimes, they don’t come true.
My shortest short fiction to date (it’s exactly 3 lines long!), “Dreamer,” is now in One Forty Fiction. Read it here.
DISCLAIMER: If you are expecting gooey declarations of undying love, mush, butterflies in your stomach or happy endings, this is not it.
Love is cheap. As disposable as toilet paper. Even underwear has a longer shelf life.
Everyone wants to be in love. Liars, all. What they are really after is the idea of being in love. It’s a game, really. The Love Game.
My flash fiction, “The Love Game,” was published by Daily Love today (you can read it here). I don’t know why. There is nothing love(ly) about it.