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Greg Bardsley

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Short stories

Our depraved litle baby is walking

It’s been a long time coming.

Been talking about this idea, working this idea, executing on this idea (slowly) for more than two years.

The idea? To publish a collection of fiction inspired by Dick Cheney.

Long story deceptively short, co-editors Kieran Shea and Jedidiah Ayres and I recruited 23 wonderfully sick writers and artists to help create something really kind of special: D*CKED: Dark Fiction Inspired by Dick Cheney [be sure to check out Shea’s behind-the-scene’s report on the making of our book].

I’m proud of our depraved little baby; it’s packed with great writing, creative storytelling and inspirational artistry.

Expect coverage from some major outlets in coming days and weeks, but for now I suggest you get yourself D*CKED.

My sweet consolation

One of the things about earning coin during the day, writing crime fic at night and being a family man throughout is that you don’t get to read nearly as much as you’d like.

My consolation? I have some scary-talented buds sending me some of the best crime fic around.

Case in point, I have been thoroughly enjoying Tony Black’s latest sensation, Truth Lies Bleeding. If you haven’t read Black yet, do yourself a favor and check out this novel by the talented U.K. prose stylist, who once again has managed to suck me in with a story that appeals to the mind and heart. With Truth Lies Bleeding, Black introduces us to yet another fascinating and fully evolved character, Edinburgh Investigator Rob Brennan, who is dealing with demons on many fronts, not the least of which is a ruthless killer who’s left a mutilated corpse in a back-alley dumpster. The police procedural element of the book is captivating, and the emotional connection to Brennan is nearly immediate. Top-shelf material from Black — again.

Also just “in”: My e-book copy of Matthew McBride’s breakout first novel, Frank Sinatra in a Blender, which I admit to taking a peek at last night despite the fact I’m in the middle of other books. I mean, with a title like that, how could I not take a peek? Regardless, I was laughing out loud within minutes and can tell that I will thoroughly enjoy that morsel.

Meanwhile, had the pleasure of reading some underground prose (for now, at least) by the prolific and powerfully voiced Kieran Shea – learn that name. … And Crimefactory just came out with a sick new issue with crate of great pieces by Eric Beetner, Jedidiah Ayres, Tony Black, the Nerd of Noir, Nigel Bird and Mike Sheeter. … Oh, and there’s some seriously discounted, tart transgressive fic by Anthony Neil Smith over at Herman’s Greasy Spoon.

And finally, was thrilled to see an excerpt of my recently completed novel appear in the legendary Plots with Guns. If you like your Crazy Larry and your Calhoun, be sure to check out The Frequency, To Which He Must Attend.

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.

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.

I do like your face

It’s funny how things turn out.

When I wrote Hotshot 52, which appears in the new crime anthology, UNCAGE ME [Bleak House Books], I wanted to try something different. I decided to focus not on my usual fare — you know, obese goofballs who upper deck into people’s toilets, or paroled Raiders fans who lounge in kiddie pools all day — but instead on the troubled mind of a Silicon Valley cubicle dweller, drilling in on the inner psychology of his need to transgress, examining the emotional makeup of  a man who hungers to do wrong.

I also kept going back to a certain conversation opener I always thought would be a  great way to start a story — “I don’t like your face.”

I was inspired.

I wrote Hotshot 52.

I sent the piece out.

It got rejected.

Then I read an interview featuring editor Jen Jordan, who was compiling a collection of crime shorts for a new anthology to be published by Bleak House. Looked her up and sent her the piece. Waited a real long time. Then maybe six months later, I learned Hotshot 52 had made it.

That felt great.

But here’s what fascinates me …

Some people like Hotshot 52, like it enough to put it in a book that’s sold in bookstores and on Amazon. Others, however, rejected it — didn’t want it for their ‘zines and journals.

All those reactions were true and fair. I have no beef with any of them. There never was a wrong way to react to the piece. What gets me is the diversity of reaction the story has illicited. What is one reader’s plum is another’s pus bomb.

Hotshot 52 is just one of 22 stories in UNCAGE ME. So far, each story I’ve read has captured me, compellled me, has taken me someplace I never expected. And I think that’s pretty frickin’ cool. As the legendary John Connolly writes in his introduction to the book, “There may be stories in this collection that you find difficult to like, or of which you may actively disapprove. There will be stories that may remind you of your own past acts, and stories dealing with acts that you believe you could never commit. Yet each of them touches upon the basic human urge to transgress, and in this you will find a certain sense of commonality, however uncomfortable it may be.”

UNCAGE ME  has been uncaged. It’s finally out there, and I’m thrilled to be included.

Now let’s go transgress.

UncageMe hardcover_BleakHouse

That tux and top hat ain’t gonna change anything

pullpusher

A while back, my wife and I were talking about our early relationship. More specifically, we were talking about those times, 17 years ago, when she’d try to dress me. At least the way I saw it back in 1992, she was trying to get me to wear fancy-boy jackets and shirts — outfits I thought were better suited for backyard-croquet dandies. Never mind the fact I was a serious slob who wore very old clothes that I kept in giant piles. I didn’t like being “controlled,” and at some point, there was a backlash.

So not too long ago, we laughed at it all. And I said the whole “Dress Greg” campaign was like trying to put a tux and top hat on a semi-feral cat. Point being, that tux and top hat ain’t gonna change anything about that cat.

Then I had an idea for a short story. I’ll leave it at that, but suffice it to say that my new short story, “Cool Breeze of Mercy,” is dedicated to all you guys out there who have struggled with deep-seeded fears that someone wants to change you.

I am proud to report that “Cool Breeze” was picked up by Pulp Pusher, the badass U.K. ‘zine run by the insanely gifted crime novelist Tony Black, author of the poweful new noir thriller GUTTED. The only bummer is that despite Black’s repeated best efforts, some limitations to a web-publishing system have left formatting of the story less than what we wanted. With that in mind, you can read the piece at The Pusher here, or if you’re having problems reading that text, you can try the properly formatted “reprint” here.

NOTE: If stories involving peyote, cat diarrhea, extremely hair men and pantsuited crazyladies wielding fire pokers aren’t your thing, you may wanna pass on “Cool Breeze of Mercy.”

 

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.

Some kind of inspiration

3amNot too long ago, I saw a guy walk past my desk eating something on a stick.

It looked like it had little legs, that thing on a stick.

It jarred me.

I soon realized it was just a corn dog, but it gave me a great idea for a short story. Well, that and the troubling reality of acronym-inflation.

Add an interesting item from my son’s recently acquired book on Northern California insects, and I had some of the primary elements of my new short story, “Some Kind of Rugged Genius,” which now appears in 3:AM Magazine.

Of course, if roasted rat on a stick, California stink beetles and acronym insanity ain’t your thing, you may wanna pass on this one.

If you need a babysitter …

If you’re looking for a babysitter, or a driving instructor, you may want to pass on Terry, the reluctant parental guardian in Jed Ayres’s story, “1998 Was a Bad Year,” which appears in the latest edition of  Thuglit.thug301

There’s something about this story that first disturbs, then amuses. You know guys like Terry are out there, somewhere, and that’s the disturbing part. But when you’re in the hands of a writer like Ayres, you want to go on that ride. It’s like this ’78 TransAm skids up onto your lawn, spins a donut and blares the horn, and the next thing you know, you’re happy to be sandwhiched between a couple of shady characters in the back seat, destined for a joyride into a world of neo-degenerancy you just don’t wanna miss.

Well, you get the idea.

Also in this edition are top-shelf tales by Changa buddies Jason Duke and Hillary Davidson, as well as stories (which I hope to soon read) by Eric Beetner, Patrick Cobbs, Robert S.P. Lee, Sophie Littlefield and Myra Sherman. Check them out.

pulp1Meanwhile, over in the United Kingdom, Pulp Pusher is running Frank Bill’s “These Old Bones,” which hits you in the jaw right from the start. Warning to those with delicate sensibilities, or those who prefer introspective, meandering “literature” about a sweet girl in a bonet walking through fields of daiseys with “Papa”: keep walking, don’t look at Frank Bill. For the rest of you: come over here.

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