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Posts tagged “Lazy Fascist Press

Dilation Exercise 99

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

As hard as it was, getting the barbed wire out of her was the easy part.


If she survived the first round of surgery, and the surgeons found a way to remove the greedy ranchers, the stubborn cowboys, and the hired guns that kept the range war going, there would still be herds of cattle to deal with and all those strays to round up.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Study for ‘Hemogoblins’” copyright © 2000 Alan M. Clark. Unpublished.


Book Trailer for The Door That Faced West

Cover_TDTFW

A friend suggested I make a book trailer for my new novel—The Door That Faced West, released by Lazy Fascist Press—using my illustrations that appear in the book. I used imovie and it came out pretty well.

Click on this link to view the trailer. If the film doesn’t appear right away, wait just a moment–it will be there.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon


Women and Children in the Time of The Door That Faced West

(In this post, I speak in general terms about women’s issues in the years 1799-1800. Exceptions to what I’ll note existed, but they were few and far between.)

The point-of-view character in my new novel, The Door That Faced West, (released in February by Lazy Fascist Press) is a sixteen-year-old woman named Sadie from North Carolina. She is escaping the abuse of her father. Since he has absolute authority over everything in her life and depends on her labor to get by, if she is to get away from him, she must go somewhere that he will not search for her. She must flee into the wilderness to the west, but she knows that to survive, she’ll need to be with people who know the territory and are tough enough to fight and defend against the dangers to be found there.

In the time in which the story takes place, children and unmarried women were frequently laborers. A child’s efforts could be employed by their parents or sold as a commodity to another master. Women had no legal identity as separate from that of their husbands or, if unmarried, the eldest male member of their families. A woman could not take part in a contract, own property, find her own job, own the wages she earned, or initiate any legal proceeding, such as a divorce or law suit. Many women lived their lives, working and bearing children under near-slavish conditions. If a woman was lucky, she received a primary education, but had no opportunities for schooling beyond that. She had no say in political or economic issues. If a woman was abused, she had little chance of redress unless some male person who had the leverage to do so took it upon himself to address the problem on her behalf. If she bore children, whether legitimate or illegitimate, the offspring belonged to the man considered to be the child’s father whether he was a fit parent or not.

These legally institutionalized attitudes toward children and women may be appalling to us now, but were a given in the eighteenth century and much of the nineteenth century, and had a destructive effect on countless lives. In The Door That Faced West, these issues play a major role in driving the plot and are demonstrated in the thinking and motivations of the characters of the novel.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

Paperback at amazon.com- $12.95

Kindle Edition – $7.95


The Criminal Climate in The Door That Faced West

“The Brothers Harpe” copyright©2014 Alan M. Clark

Throughout life, hope for a better future can encourage us to strive for our own betterment and to contribute to that of our family, friends, and community, but the circumstances of our birth can dictate what options we have available. If the options are grim, we have few choices, and little hope, we can become opportunists with little regard for those around us and turn to criminal activity to better our lot in life.

The rather obvious statements I’ve made about human experience are as true today as they were 200 years ago, yet imagine a time when the circumstances of our birth had much more influence over what was possible for us in life. My new novel, The Door That Faced West, released by Lazy Fascist Press, takes place in America in such a time, the years 1799 and 1800. In that period, a class system reigned within American society, much as it did in Europe. The quality of one’s clothing and other possessions, appearance of health and physical development, accent, and vocabulary of speech were signals of one’s station in life. If an individual was seen to be a poor, then in that low station that one would most likely remain throughout life. The class system was an age-old contrivance that allowed those in higher stations, those with wealth, to support each other while jealously guarding their advantage. The disparity between the haves and have-nots was large. The majority of Americans were poor, underfed, over-worked, and willing to consider underhanded measures to better themselves. They were often so desperate for a better life, they were easy for those well-to-do to manipulate.

Nearly fifty percent of immigrants to America from Europe came as indentured servants. An indentured servant was one who was contracted to work for his or her master to pay off a debt. Many of those who came to America were paying off the debt of passage to the continent by serving a term of four or more years of work for the master, generally the captain of the ship that bore them across the sea. Once in America, the ship captains sold the indentures to employers and the servants then had new masters.

A master had nearly complete control over how the indentured was treated; the quality of food, shelter, and clothing provided, and control over the servant’s hours of rest and labor. Largely, that treatment was not subject to review or questioning by others. Indentured servants mistreated by their masters frequently ran away and became wanted. Newspapers advertised rewards for their capture and return. If a person with an appearance of being poor arrived in a community, any concerned male citizen could stop and question the individual. If the person was found to be an indentured servant, they were returned to their master. Indentured servitude could be virtual slavery except for the fact that the contracts defined a time limit for service.

Indentured servitude was only one of several methods of binding the poor to highly controlled positions of labor. Conditions for those in apprenticeships were frequently not much better. If greedy, those with power over other’s lives could push their charges to the breaking point in an attempt to gain as much service as possible.

Some born into poor families sought to raise their social status by gaining glory in the military. A bold man who acquitted himself heroically on the field of battle could earn respect and thereby rise to a somewhat better station. The fear existed that life could be cut short in battle, however, and the life of a soldier was often extremely harsh. Frequently men were pushed too hard and desertion was common.

The labor of many wives and children was considered of primary importance in helping a family to survive. A hard man, husband, father or both, much like a greedy master, might work his family to the bone to make ends meet. One generation of cruelty often begat a similar one.

For the poor, the potential for suffering inhumanity in most walks of life was high, much of the callousness institutionalized as appropriate and important aspect of maintaining order and discipline. Under harsh conditions, desperation drove many individuals to criminal acts in order to survive. To hide from those pursuing them for their crimes or their masters, many fled into territories where the law was less likely to find them.

The vastness of the wilderness of the new states of Tennessee and Kentucky in the years in which The Door That Faced West takes place, 1799 and 1800, was intimidating to most Americans, yet could be a haven for criminals. To some outlaws, it was a playground. The dense, seemingly endless forest that stretched from the east coast to the Mississippi and beyond was a dangerous area in which human lives were frequently lost due to exposure to the elements, accidents, or deadly encounters with forest animals or Indians. The best land for hunting, much of middle Tennessee and Kentucky, was sacred to the Indians, and they were willing to kill to defend it. Many of the non-indigenous persons who entered that forest to hunt, to carve out a home, to help develop a new settlement, or merely to explore, were never heard from again, lost without a trace. A few more lives lost to the activities of brigands in the forest was hardly noticed.

Inevitably, settlements sprang up along rivers and well-worn animal and Indian traces, but the going was rough. The forest was largely uninterrupted in the eastern half of the continent, and had never been logged. The trees were massive, blocking out much of the light and making farming difficult if not impossible. Under the forest canopy, sometimes hidden beneath the undergrowth as well, were swamps that might be the size of a small pond or cover hundreds of square miles in area. These bogs were rimmed with canebrakes that were nearly impossible to penetrate. Consequently, what traffic there was through the wilderness—those traveling for personal reasons or involved in commerce—was often funneled along the well-worn paths. Criminals had only to wait, hidden in the forest along the traces, until victims happened along. Leaving no witnesses became a standard for seasoned footpads since the immensity of the forest allowed bodies to be easily hidden. Frequently the victims were never found and countless murders during the period went unpunished.

Within settlements, law and order was loosely held by those who appeared tough enough to do the job. Often those were men with criminal backgrounds, willing to do whatever they thought they could get away with to better their positions. Facing possible death in order to fight crime was not at the top of their agenda.

Communication between settlements was poor. Going through the rumor mill as it travelled, information communicated between settlements was often unreliable. With a few outrageous acts, an outlaw’s persona could become larger than life and twice as intimidating within a short time.

The environment described in this post, both geographical and societal, is the landscape in which The Door That Faced West takes place; one in which a couple of ruthless, opportunistic brothers with bloodlust might rampage with impunity for an extended length of time, and, indeed, they did.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

Paperback at amazon.com- $12.95

Kindle Edition – $7.95


The Flotsam and Jetsam of History: Some of Why I Like Writing Historical Fiction

If you love words as I do, you’ve got to love history.  Although many expressions that came into existence long ago are still in use and their meanings as idioms are clear to us, the original meanings of the phrases may be lost without a search in history.  Sometimes the original meaning is lost because we use the words differently now.

Because the gun played such a large role in events over the last few centuries, many idioms are related to firearms of the past.  Here are a few that are still widely used, but the context of their origination not widely known.

Lock stock and barrel is an expression we use to mean “all of it.” I used to think it meant the whole store, like a mercantile of some kind. It means the whole rifle or musket. The lock is the firing mechanism, the barrel is, well… self-explanatory, and the stock is the part that helps you hold onto the firearm.

Bite the bullet means expose yourself to possible pain and danger to get a job done. Many people believe it originally meant to bite down on a lead bullet to endure pain, perhaps while having a surgical experience without an anesthetic, but it comes from a time when to prepare a rifle for firing you had to bite the end off a paper-wrapped cartridge before placing its contents in the barrel of your firearm. Doing this while under fire took brave resolve.

Stick to your guns means remain true to principles or goals. The expression has less to do with guns per se and more to do with maintaining a particular post during battle, especially if you’re told to hold a position without retreating. Well, of course you will need that gun, won’t you?

Flash in the pan in an idiom we use to mean a great start but little or no follow up. It’s a great metaphor for a one hit wonder in the music industry who puts out a single very popular tune, yet never does any better afterward and soon falls out of favor.  To do justice to this one takes some explaining, so bear with me.

The original meaning comes from a time when pistols, muskets, and rifles had flint lock firing mechanisms.  To load a flintlock firearm, gunpowder was poured into the barrel followed by a lead ball, called “shot,” wrapped in a bit of rag to make it fit snugly and hold everything in place. A small pan beside a hole in the side of the barrel was primed with a little gunpowder and then protected from spillage by a hinged iron part called a frizzin (see the diagramed illustration above).  When the trigger of the flintlock was pulled, the hammer, which held a piece of flint did two things: it struck sparks off the iron frizzin and knocked that hinged part off the pan.  With the frizzin out of the way, the sparks could reach the powder in the pan and ignite it.  The hot expanding gas of the lit powder was meant to travel down the small hole in the side of the barrel and ignite the powder behind the lead shot.  If this last step didn’t occur, there was merely a flash in the pan and the gun didn’t actually fire.

Understanding the metaphor of this idiom creates a mental picture that enhances the meaning of the expression. A flash in the pan is an exciting event, with a hiss, a flash, and billowing smoke, but the results are disappointing if that isn’t followed by the loud crack of the shot flying from the barrel and striking a target. Without the mental picture some of the power of the expression’s metaphor is lost.

The original meanings of many single words are unknown to most of us today. I’m thinking of several having to do with the production of linen.  A lining, like what you might have in the inside surface of your coat, means something made from line flax. Line flax is the fibers of the flax plant that don’t break off when run through a device that looks like a small bed of nails called a hackle (aka heckle). The fibers that survive going through a hackle and remain long are spun together to make fine linen thread (note the word “line” in “linen”). So a lining is something made of linen. The lining of my stomach or my water heater is not made of linen, though. When my dog gets upset, wants to look bigger and more threatening, he gets his hackles up, but that doesn’t mean he has metal spikes sticking up out of his back. In the past, the flax fibers that broke off short in a hackle were called tow flax. They weren’t good enough to make fine thread and were spun into a rough cord to make tow sacks, which are much like the burlap sacks of today.  Tow fibers are very blonde, but a tow-headed child doesn’t have tow flax for hair even if the tyke is referred to as flaxen-haired. The act of drawing flax fibers through a hackle is known as heckling. The purpose was to worry, to tease (in the old sense, meaning to comb), and straighten the fibers to determine which would stand up to stress and were worth using for linen production. When a stand-up comedian is heckled, that doesn’t mean he’s drawn through a small bed of nails to straighten his fibers and break off his weak parts. Okay, so maybe it does mean he’s being teased, but still, you get my point.

Here’s an expression I like a lot: flotsam and Jetsam. It’s not the most commonly known phrase, but it’s still a fun one using curious words, and I want to use it in the last paragraph of this post. We use it now to mean odds and ends. For example, somebody might say, “The project is finished except for the flotsam and jetsam of small problems I discovered along the way.” Flotsam and jetsam are separate nautical terms, but frequently appear together, both as words and in the context in which the words have meaning.  Flotsam is the remnants of a shipwreck that floats on the sea after a vessel has gone down.  Jetsam is what is jettisoned from a ship going down to lighten its load and help it stay afloat longer.

In the time in which the idiom, flash in the pan, came into existence, the context from which it emerged was well-known to most individuals. An expression like that becomes popular perhaps because it’s frequently used in conversation as a metaphor in lieu of lengthier descriptions. If an idiom becomes useful enough that it’s overused and becomes cliché, it will be so universally understood that the significance of its original context can be discarded. It can far outlive the simple context of its birth. The idiom still performs a meaningful function although many who hear it and repeat it may not understand where it came from. Although the expression, flash in the pan is very much alive, having outlived the technology of the flintlock by more than a century, the metaphor it presents can be considered broken since most people today don’t understand how the firing mechanism works. I’ve heard and used many idioms for years in partial ignorance. As I became more interested in history, the original meaning of some idioms came clear. Finding the discovery satisfying, I became much more curious about the origins of words and phrases.

I like to think of idioms with broken metaphors as flotsam of history. The ship has long since gone under, taking its passengers with it. Phrases remain, floating above the wreckage on the surface like lost luggage, filled with words that once had specific meaning, and, in combination, still have an idiomatic meaning. The specific sense of the words might have been lost, but the phrases still have value. We all claim salvage rights from time to time, but often don’t ask the simple questions: Who owned these expressions and why did they find them valuable?  If we seek answers to the questions, we can learn something about those who left them behind and perhaps find out why the phrases float so well even today.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon


New Novel – THE DOOR THAT FACED WEST


My latest novel, The Door That Faced West, is out now from Lazy Fascist Press.

Here’s what Brian Keene said about it:

“It is not hyperbole to say that Alan M. Clark’s The Door That Faced West left me absolutely stunned. A thoughtfully haunting blend of historical fiction and thriller, this is one of Clark’s best works to date, across any medium. Simply amazing, and undoubtedly one of the best books you’ll read this year.”

Brian Keene, bestselling author of The Rising and Ghoul


Dilation Exercise 98

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

Bill Toby Gerbil marries a can of fresh worms.


Bride was lost in a fishing accident only days later.

About the photo and caption:
In the 1980s, before digital photography was available, I used a polaroid camera to get instant pictures for reference photos for my illustrations. The photos were terrible, like the one in this post. My good friend, Jack Daves, who unfortunately passed away in 2004, liked my photos because they made him laugh. He was a very funny fellow, a great horror writer, and a wonderful musician who helped create the band, The Secret Commonwealth. Jack liked captioning my reference photos. The one I share today is my favorite – written by Jack Hunter Daves. He still makes me laugh.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

 


Dilation Exercise 97

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

He hated his older sister when she stole his candy bar, but then when she began to choke on it, he panicked for fear of losing one he truly loved.


Although he began beating her chest to clear her obstructed airway, it felt so good to punish her, he just kept at it.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Dead Little Girl” copyright © 2011 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustration for Flesh and Blood 13, appearing with the story, “Who Killed Little Betty,” by Brian Knight.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.


Dilation Exercise 96

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

In the midst of the great struggle for the soul of mankind, the revelation of the great wobbly breasts of Cartoon Pope was so startling for Evil Crabman that it nearly took the fight out of him.

Then, imagine his surprise when the pontiff asked for a hug.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Cartoon Pope” copyright © 2011 Alan M. Clark. A controlled accident painting created during a controlled accident workshop Mr. Clark taught at the Emerald Art Center in Springfield, Oregon.


Show Me Your Shelves: Michael J. Seidlinger

I’ve been lucky enough to meet outstanding people who are as obssesed with books as I am. Author/editor/Publisher/designer/madman Michael J Seidlinger is one of them. Seidlinger lives for books and talking literature with him is a pleasure, just like reading his work. I’ve sent him books and he’s sent me books, but I’d never seen his stacks. Here they are, along with some great answers.

Who are you and what role do books play in your life?

My name is Michael J Seidlinger and I have a problem with books. To be more specific, books have consumed my life. Life revolves around the sentence and making sure it leads me to the best narratives, the best ideas, and the best brand of liquor. I don’t know how to live without books flanking me from all sides. To be even more specific, I’m a writer (The Laughter of Strangers, My Pet Serial Killer, The Sky Conducting), publisher (Civil Coping Mechanisms), and designer (book design, typesetting, website design).

You edit, design covers, have great social media presence, acquire manuscripts, read a lot of books, write reviews, etc. However, you’re primarily a writer: how do you make sure that writing takes precedence over everything else?

I’m ruthless—I am my own worst enemy. I forge unrealistic goals and drink gallons of coffee to stay up late at night. It typically begins with a 2000 word goal for the day and gravitates towards content editing every couple of pages. I’ll often return to the day’s writing once or twice before being satisfied and, as a result, allowed to sleep. Writing becomes the item that determines whether or not I have made good use of the day. Actually, I’d say that there’s no such thing as a good day until I am able to hit that word count and know where the narrative is going in the days and weeks to follow. Probably sounds insane. Yeah, definitely sounds nuts. Well then, what’s next?

 photo seidlinger.jpg

I know you hate doing lists so…what are some of your favorite 2013 readings? 

I’m fine with lists. How about favorite 2013 books since I think readings are almost always a waste of time (I go only to hang out and mingle with friends).

Books I enjoyed in 2013 (random order):

Mira Corpora by Jeff Jackson

No One Writes Back by Eunjin Jang

Basal Ganglia by Matthew Revert

Damnation by Janice Lee

This Is Between Us by Kevin Sampsell

The Last Days of California by Mary Miller

Happy Rock by Matthew Simmons

Crapalachia by Scott McClanahan

Taipei by Tao Lin

I Don’t Know I Said by Matthew Savoca

Fun Camp by Gabe Durham

Haute Surveillance by Johannes Goransson

Motherfucking Sharks by Brian Allen Carr

The list goes on, seriously. These were merely a few books that showed up without too much trouble when I returned to my Goodreads profile. I feel like there are almost always a handful of books I should be reading instead of the one in my hands and yet I can’t help but continue looking around, trying to figure out what those books might be.

You keep some books and give others away. Why is that and what kind of books stay on your shelves?

I have a tendency to never stay in one place for too long, be it moving to a different state or merely relocating to a different building. This means I need to remain a minimalist. I don’t own anything I don’t need to be happy. I have a bed, a few pieces of furniture, clothes, a guitar, TV, some videogames, and tons of books. That’s it. Above all, the books take up the most space and, as a result, the inner minimalist in me abides by a rule:

If the book doesn’t floor me, it doesn’t earn a spot on the shelf.

Most of the time I keep my books in boxes due to a lack of space but you get the point. I keep only those books I’ll return to simply because the reading experience reminded me, once again, of the beauty of literature. Books like Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson, Post Office by Charles Bukowski, The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa, or, as you can tell in the picture I provided, Death on the Installment Plan by Louis-Ferdinand Celine.

What’s your last book about and why should we run and buy it?

Lazy Fascist Press published my latest this past November; it’s called “The Laughter of Strangers” and it pertains to a down-and-out professional boxer named Willem Floures facing the inevitability of aging. He is struggling to remain the current and “most noteworthy” version of himself. The book takes place in a world much like our own; it’s a world where fighting to win means fighting yourself. You must face the versions of yourself that chose differently. You fight to best yourself and, hopefully, be the version that is left standing when all is said and done. This is a story about the version that had it all and yet still wants more, Willem wants to keep fighting and is willing to do whatever it takes to do that, even if it means losing it all in the process.

You don’t have to read it. There are so many other books to choose from. But if you end up buying the book and, even better, end up enjoying it, I want you to know that you made this psychopath happy.

 photo laughtercover.jpg


Dilation Exercise 95

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

The boy had no close friends, his parents didn’t understand him, and he loved nothing in the world so much as monster movies; so, he fled reality, entering the television one afternoon during his favorite show, The Horror Feature.

He fought his way toward the light, dodging giant mutant bugs, deadly alien creatures, and ancient evils from the Dark Ages—not knowing what he’d find when he got to the source, believing it had to be better than what he’d had.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Holywood” copyright © 1991 Alan M. Clark. The image is inspired by a story concept b by David Conover.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.


Dilation Exercise 94

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Since this week’s workout is so close to the holidays, Robert Devereaux was asked to lead the exercise with material inspired by his series, The Santa Claus Chronicles. Using the cover artwork for the existing three novels as inspiration, he has written the captions below to deliver a seasonal delight! There are links to the books on amazon.com in this post.

Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the images, and allow your imagination to go to work on them. Please don’t expand on the story lines in your comments. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

At the height of their passion, Saint Nick remembered having left his genitals in some needy grown-up’s stocking

Once retrieved, which could be accomplished in a flash, how might he conclude this fiery encounter with a genuine money shot?

Artwork: “Santa and the Tooth Fairy” copyright © 1992 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Santa Steps Out, by Robert Devereaux, published by Deadite Press.

Hmmm, a pooper of coins.

How might he give such a gift to deserving tykes worldwide, without turning them into scorned freaks?

Artwork: “Santa Remote Viewing” copyright © 2011 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes, by Robert Devereaux, published by Deadite Press.

Elevated to Son-of-God-ship, what a time to pop a boner!

All the heavenly host has noticed and stopped singing my praises, turning their eyes to the Big Boy Himself.

Artwork: “Santa’s Wet Dream” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Santa Claus Saves the World, by Robert Devereaux, published by Deadite Press.

Captions are original to this post and are not excerpted from the novels.

Cameron Pierce has an article on LitReactor about Robert Devereaux’s Santa Claus Chronicles.

 

—Alan M. Clark and Robert Devereaux


Dilation Exercise 93

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

Alister had often wondered if the mechanics of his brain were responsible for making him like Harold or if the cruel man were indeed worthy of friendship.

But other than a best friend, Alister thought in the last moments of his life, who would do this for me?

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “The Long Walk” copyright © 1992 Alan M. Clark. Interior Illustration for Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, appearing with “The Walk” by Greg Egan.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon


Flash Fiction Friday: Up Comes the Shark

Excerpt of Motherfucking Sharks by Brian Allen Carr

On the ground, near a puddle, its face the smell of chocolate, a toddler toddles.

See this, friend: eyes green, cheeks alight with joy. Blonde hair only ever so slightly feathered by breeze. A giggle. A tummy laugh. You ever touched a toddler’s tummy? It feels like suede-wrapped heaven. It smells like milk and hugs and handshakes from God. You see this little boy? This little white boy? If it hurts you more to see a black boy die, then make him black in your mind, I don’t care what it looks like so long as you’re uncomfortable. Instead, reader, do this. Picture for me, if you will, the child you love the most. Hold it in your head. Dress it with the form you’d least like see killed. In this way, we have always been a team. I tell you a thing, but you spin it real in your head. So, I won’t tell you everything. Hell, make it a girl. Make it your own. Give me a child. Put it in your mind. Put it by a puddle. Put joy in its heart. I’m going to fuck it up. I’m going to unleash a magical shark on it. I’m going to turn that precious thing into a bucket of death shaped the way that hurts you most. Put that fucking child by that fucking puddle and let me kill the fuck out of it. I will strip its skin from its body, toss chunks of it at you like strips of bacon. Your baby. Make the fucking baby. I want to kill the fucking baby you’ve made in your mind. Is it there? Is it the baby?

Now, up comes the shark.

Now listen, I’m serious here, I’m willing to sacrifice my spot in Heaven to make you feel bad while reading this. I’ll quit drinking forever tomorrow, and I won’t jerk off to amateur porn anymore—you know the kind that’s been stolen and where the women look embarrassed and the men look eager and the light is yellow and you can nearly smell the sin—but it won’t matter anymore, because after I kill this toddler out of your imagination, God will think me reprehensible. I want this to all occur inside of you. We’re a team, okay? We’re gonna kill this little kid together.

Kill this kid with me.

Put it in your mind and let’s kill it.

Just you and me.

Just you and me and our imaginations.

Just two people. Taking a kid and killing it in our hearts.

It’s not real.

It’s just.

Let’s take this kid. This cute little kid. It’s by the puddle. And in that puddle is something dark.

The child is innocent. The shark is heinous. Teeth. Teeth. Teeth.

Look at a baby’s hand. It’s so soft.

Look at a shark’s mouth. All those teeth, so sharp.

Take that soft little hand, with those soft little fingers. Piggies. Piggies.

Sing: this little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home.

God, I’m gonna fucking put those cute little fingers in that fucking shark’s mouth. God, it will be fucked up. I’m gonna drag them over the teeth. Oh, shit, they will not stand a chance.

Hahaha. Look at the baby’s face. It’s fucking crying.

There’s blood everywhere.

It’s trying to suck it’s thumb.

Hey, dumbass, thumb’s gone.

I fed it to a fucking shark.

Hahahahhahahahahahahahahahaahaa.

Oh.

It bites the kid again. Oh, man.

These motherfucking sharks are crazy.

———-

Brian Allen Carr lives on the Texas/Mexico border. Motherfucking Sharks is out now with Lazy Fascist Press.


Dilation Exercise 92

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

In 1957, when televisions could hardly maintain horizontal control, she was a sex kitten and he was an obese man who could no longer get around on his own.

So why did the network believe a reality TV show about the couple would sell?

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Fat Man and Sex Kitten” copyright © 1985 Alan M. Clark.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.


Dilation Exercise 91

Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

Although the teams and the fans kept to all the colorful traditions, the game wasn’t what it used to be.

But, then, neither was reality.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “The Campbell House” copyright © 1985 Alan M. Clark.
Interior illustration for Imagination Fully Dilated (inspired by the artwork, Peter Crowther wrote the story “The Space Between the Lines” for the anthology) edited by Elizabeth Engstrom and Alan M. Clark – Cemetery Dance Publications.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.


Dilation Exercise 90

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

Although she’d made the decision to push Suesanna to her death the first time they’d shared the duty on the bluff, Sadie couldn’t follow through because she didn’t want the infant the woman carried to suffer.

The second time the two shared the duty, for a noon to sunset shift, the older woman left her child with Bett.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Bluff” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustraion for The Door that Faced West (The artwork will appear in black and white in the paperback book)


Dilation Exercise 89

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

Because the Harpes had created havoc with such ferocity and gotten away with the violence for so long over a vast wilderness territory, the people of the frontier began to believe the brothers were more powerful than ordinary men.

The danger seemed to escalate as the rumor mill attributed all unsolved crimes within the territory to the Harpes, and a common, unreasoning fear, suggesting that the brothers were supernatural beings, kept honest folks from fighting back.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Harpe Party” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustraion for The Door that Faced West (The artwork will appear in black and white in the paperback book)


Dilation Exercise 88

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

After what the Harpes had done to him, Sadie hadn’t expected to ever again see the man who tried to molest her.

But here Mose was, tangled in her drift line at the bottom of the river, turning slowly in the current as if dancing an ominous and wicked jig.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Wicked Jig” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustration for The Door that Faced West (The artwork will appear in black and white in the paperback book)


Dilation Exercise 87

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

As Sadie awoke and became aware that she was being dragged into the darkness, the sound of a heavy object striking flesh came from behind, and she was released.

She turned toward the commotion, saw Micajah grappling with an Indian in the moonlight, and struggled to believe she was not still dreaming.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Attack” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustraion for The Door that Faced West


Dilation Exercise 86

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

As night descended and the wolves continued to guard their prize, they were alert to every sound.

Despite the fact that the predators were intent on devouring Sadie, she decided they would provide protection should Reverend Rice found her.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Treed” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustraion for The Door that Faced West


Dilation Exercise 85

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harpe brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline.

As soon as the Harpe Brothers’ eyes met Sadie’s, she knew with a horrible certainty they had killed the Fischer family.

Seeing Wiley’s eyes narrow and Micajah’s jaw tightening, she quickly relaxed her features and put on a smile.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Harpe Montage 3″ copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Cropped version of the cover art for The Door that Faced West.


Dilation Exercise 83

In an effort to promote my new novel, The Door That Faced West, due for release in February 2014 from Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below based on a scene in the story. The novel is inspired by the earliest known American serial killers, the Harp brothers, Wiley and Micajah, and the three wives they shared. Comments are welcome, but please do not expand on this storyline when you do so.

Knowing she could not complete the work her father, Reverend Rice, had given her, Sadie looked at the threshold that led to the outside with the nagging feeling that she had to use the door before he did.

Even as she decided she had to take the way out and keep going, he arrived home early and took a black step inside, a cruel suspicion darkening his eyes and mouth as he stared at her.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Reverend Rice” copyright © 2013 Alan M. Clark. Interior illustration for The Door that Faced West


Dilation Exercise 79

In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released by Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below to expand the story beyond the end of the novel. This week’s exercise works with last week’s. The novel is inspired by the three infamous Wardlaw sisters.

Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.

By the time Vertiline had given up the search for Mary, Carolee had taken a terrible toll on the innocent, and by all signs, her deadly activity stretched far into the future.

Weary and reconciled to her existence ending in shame and failure, Vertiline tried to lie down and be still, but the wind gave her feathers life, picked her and sent her flying onward, ever doomed to witness the murderous career she had helped to shape.

—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon

If you like Alan M. Clark’s artwork, please try his writing in both short fiction and novels.

Artwork: “Portents” copyright © 2008 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Portents edited by Al Sarrantonio, published by Flying Fox Publishers.

Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.


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