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Greg Bardsley

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creative writing

Did “that” just happen?

I still can’t believe I am in this thing.

I mean, I’m right after a piece by Mickey Spillane and Max Allen Collins, and right before a story by Dana Cameron. And the name parade by no means ends there. This thing is packed with stories by legends like Dennis Lehane and Mary Higgins Clark. … And Laura Lippman. … And Tom Picirilli and Dave Zeltserman. …. And Luis Alberto Urrea – holy shit, what a story he tells in the 2009 Edgard Award winner, Amapola.

 Is this real? Do I really have a story in the same anthology as these writers?

 Hell yeah.  

 BY HOOK OR BY CROOK: THE BEST CRIME AND MYSTERY STORIES OF THE YEAR.

The book arrived a few months back, but it’s been crazy here at Bardsley Industries — bills to pay, revisions to write, speeches  to complete – and I never got the chance to note the moment, or even thank editors Ed Gorman and Martin H. Greenberg for including my story.

I’m grateful and humbled — and still thrilled.

P.S. – If you’re a collector, be sure to consider the leather-bound, limited-edition version of this book with every story signed by its author.

Cuckoo for Crazy Larry?

Not too long ago my story, Crazy Larry Smells Bacon, had quite the day.

First, in the morning, I received the news that Crazy Larry, which originally appeared in the transgressive-fiction journal Plots with Guns, had been selected to appear in the anthology, By Hook or by Crook: The Best Crime and Mystery Stories of the Year: 2009 [Tyrus Books], edited by Ed Gorman and Martin Greenberg.

Then, that night, I learned that judges for the storySouth 2010 Million Writers Award had named Crazy Larry a “notable story” of the year (along with pieces by many others, most notably Kieran Shea, Kyle Minor and Mike MacLean), and that it’s still elligible for higher praise, however unlikely.

For all the love Larry is now receiving, I can thank PWG editor Anthony Neil Smith. Neil’s push-backs on the piece, and his suggestions for spry ol’ Larry, really made a difference. … I’m also glad to tell you that Larry has a solid role in the novel I have been writing; it’s a relief to see that Larry actually ineterests more people than just Neil and me.  

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with that.

Greg’s Friends Doing Amazing Things — Al Riske

You never know how your life might change as a result of meeting someone.

When I met Al Riske in 1999 as a fellow ghostwriter at Sun Microsystems, I couldn’t have predicted the writing adventures and deep friendship that would follow. Over the course of the next nine years — during lunches, coffee breaks and hallway conversations — Al and I would compare notes on our fiction pursuits.

It didn’t really matter that he wrote literary and I wrote transgressive. We supported each other — critiqued each other’s pieces, read each other’s books, ridiculed each other’s rejection letters, dissected literary-agent  search strategies and, eventually, celebrated the successes that started to develop.

Along the way, I was lucky enough to read a story collection Al had written, revised, added-to and massaged for the better part of twenty years. The stories were beautiful — elegant without trying, revealing without really showing why, brief in a satisfying way, scandalous with a light touch — and they stuck with you, key images and dialogue etching themselves into your subconscious.

His stories began to stick with other folks, too, including the editors at Hobart, Blue Mesa, Pindeldyboz and Word Riot. One story won a contest. But literary agents didn’t come running — the conventional wisdom seemed to be that there was no commercial market for short story collections, unless you were Tobias Wolff or John Updike.

Then Al learned about Luminis Books, a brand-new small press that wanted to publish “beautifully crafted prose.” Luminis, it seemed, was interested in publishing books it likes, and less obsessed with producing a New York Times bestseller.

Next thing he knew, Al had a book deal.

A year later, Al’s collection, Precarious: Stories of Love, Sex and Misunderstanding, is shipping from Amazon and selling at bookstores. Publishers Weekly called it “charming.” Novelist Catherine Ryan Hyde announced, “The art of the short story is alive and well in the hands of Al Riske.” Bookstores and literary groups have invited him to read from his collection. Every week seems to deliver a new first, a new adventure.

When my copy of Precarious arrived, the whole thing hit me hard in a wonderful way — here in my hands was the fruit of Al’s inspirational talent and persistence.

I couldn’t be happier for him.

“Dude, are your a writah?”

A few years back, a friend’s dad visiting from the East Coast told me a “real writer” is someone who has published material on the printed page. Until he was published on paper, this man wouldn’t consider himself “a writer.”

I always hated the whole effort to create that distinction — “Are you a real writer, or not?” I recall back in college, my first week as a news staffer, I had to stay inside on Labor Day to write a bunch of stories, and a roommate’s friend visiting from San Francisco returned from a day of tubing and drinking and promptly freaked out at the sight of me in my room writing newspaper pieces. “Dude,” he said in this half-California/half-British accent, eyes enlarging as he gazed at my copy. “Dude, are you a writah?”

I always thought being a writer is not about anything other than a mindset. Period. But I think  Dan O’Shea, who I had the pleasure of meeting at Bouchercon this fall, says it even better, and more clearly, right here.

Frickin’ right on, Dan.

Small items, big shit: While my people are all salivating to get a piece of the Noir at the Bar action run by Ayres, my dear friend Riske is headed the other way. He just did a reading in a Palo Alto art gallery (granted, the first reading Al ever did was indeed not only in a bar, but in its basement, so that gives him Noir at the Bar street cred, no?). Truly bummed I couldn’t make it, but I know there will be more Riske readings to attend, if the quality of his soon-to-be released story collection is any indication. … Speaking of Ayres, my fellow Sex, Thugs and Rock & Roll alum has a story in the brand-spanking-new anthology, Surreal South ’09. Check it out. … And finally, Shea, my roomie at Bouchercon, has a new flash piece at Yellow Mama that gives us an insider’s view into the mind of a vacationing creative who’s dealt with one too many knuckleheads. Loved it. Hey Kieran, just how many voices can you successfully master? I’ve lost count.

Five questions at Scrivo

richardsonMark Richardson and I have been comparing notes on fiction-writing for years now. We have had some great talks about it all. Whereas, he’s more likely to tell me about the latest story by nearby peninsula genius Tobias Wolff, I’m more likely to tell him about some amazing stories I’ve read in Plots with Guns or the now-defunct Murdaland.

He reads fiction in The New Yoker. I read fiction in Thuglit. And then we trade.

A few years ago, we had a debate about Eat, Pray, Love.

Along the way, he’s turned me on to some great shit in his publications. And I’m happy to report that maybe I’ve turned him on to noir and transgressive fiction. Case in point, Richardson is now weighing in on UNCAGE ME, the anthology of noir that includes my story, Hotshot 52, and has asked me to answer five questions over at his new blog, Scrivo.

Mark is a great writer with an amazing track record in fiction — every story he’s written has been picked up so far. And Scrivo already has made some interesting observations about  the pursuit of fiction-writing.

You can chek out his bog and his five questions of me right here.

A conversation with this “bookless” writer

Brian Lindenmuth has a great series of interviews brewing at Bookspot Central, where he’s profiling “bookless” up-and-comers in the crime-fiction scene. Hence the series name, “Conversations with the Bookless.”

So far, the featured “bookless” have included Sandra Seamans, Anonymous-9, Keith Rawson, Jedidiah Ayres, Frank Bill and Jordan Harper.  That’s a talented group, right there, and I’m flattered to be featured with them.

So, am I as crazy as some might have you believe? You can check out my profile here, and weigh in on this heady matter at the end of the interview.

To the Gutter I go

This past spring, I got a call from a colleague who helps me with corporate videos. He was concerned. Didn’t know what to do, who to call. So he called me. Said he was working on a video that included a comment from an executive that concerned him. It was a comment that sounded benign enough in the corporate world but could be interpreted as quite graphic and socially inappropriate … if your mind is in the gutter.

We had a good laugh. Then I had an idea. An idea for a short story. I wrote it and sent it to an outfit that seemed perfect for this kind of subject matter.

Today I’m proud to announce that my story, “Headquarters Likes Your Style,” will appear in Out of the Gutter, “the modern journal of pulp fiction and degenerate literature,” which recently released its list of contributors for its fifth printed edition. I was honored to be included on this list of talented sickos, and I’m thrilled about appearing in Out of the Gutter. These guys a OOTG love what they do, and they’ve created a journal that is so original, so bold, so unapologetic, so anti-fancy-boy that you can’t help but want to be a part of it.

Being in the gutter never felt so good.

Add Dorst to the stack

I had a chance to see a Doug Dorst at Kepler’s Bookstore last week.

I got to know Dorst as one of his students in a fiction-writing course I took in 2003. Long story short, the former Stegner Fellow led a great class and later helped me with the novel I was completing. Along the way, I got to know a little more about Dorst. Apart from being a genuinely kindhearted and insightful guy, he’s also pretty damn multi-talented — he’s everything from a former lawyer to a three-time Jeopardy champion. So when I learned that his long-awaited novel, “Alive in Necropolis,” had been released by Three Rivers and was winning critical acclaim (The New York Times gave it a nice review, and Amazon named it one of their favorite books in July), I was thrilled for him. Seeing him read from “Alive” at Kepler’s was an added bonus.

Dorst takes some big chances with “Alive,” does some interesting things, and makes it work, according to the large number of writers championing the book. At Kepler’s, he read the opening section and hooked a few more writers, including me. I bought a copy and added it to my ever-growing stack of unread books authored by friends. If there’s ever a reason to be happy about losing the battle against your reading stack, this is it.

Short-story fever

I got it. I got it bad. I got short-story fever.

I’m not the only one. At work, two other cats — Riske and Richardson — also have short-story fever. Real bad. In recent weeks, both of them have seen their short fiction accepted by online literary journals. Meanwhile, I just shipped off a tale about degenerate activities to a journal that, well, loves that kind of thing. And so the three of us can be found at different points in the day (during lunch, between meetings, after work, etc.) talking about short stories — about our own, about others.

You ask me, and I’d say one of the great things about short stories is the far more immediate emotional payoff for the writer, compared with novels. A short story can be written in an evening, and the chance of soon-after sharing it with the reading public is, of course, far greater than it is with a novel. And of course, as a writer, there’s so much freedom with short stories — one can write a compelling piece without getting into geographic locations, last names, character backstory, family members, or any number of other things that usually warrant the writer’s attention in a novel. And because readers are more likely to give an unusual protagonist or storyline a few minutes of their lives (compared to hours and hours of their lives with a novel), I think you can take so many more risks with a short story.

I still love writing novels. In fact, I heard back from my literary agent last week that my next novel is promising and that I should definitely keep working on it. I’m thrilled, so I’m making a point to focus on the novel. But I have to admit that these short-story ideas keep popping up in the back of my head, begging to be written. I just tell them, “I’ll write you; it’ll just be a while.”

Anybody out there with similar problems? How do you handle it, strike that balance?

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