Win Win Win…Free Free Free!

Want a chance to win a free original print made specially for you? Check out my friend’s blog for a chance to win! You can also read an article about the new book here.

 

It’s celebrating the release of my next book, available here. The original you can win is a lot like these:

Elephants Rule (Typography on a Vintage Photograph)

Elephants Rule is part of the upcoming book Capturing a Moment, published by Wrags Ink. Preorder it right now here and get all kinds of free goodies! Or order it with this original or any other!

Support the arts!

Or just help me out 😉


Set in Stone

Set in Stone is part of the new book Capturing a Moment, available for preorder on my Etsy. The original is also available on etsy. Support a starving artist! 🙂

PREORDER Capturing a Moment!

Hello readers!

Hopefully you’ve been following my work all this time and know all about the flash fiction pieces I type onto vintage photographs. If not, they look like this:

Or this:

Well now my book is available for preorder! The WONDERFUL publishers over at Wrags, Ink have seen fit to put out a collection of around fifty of their favorites, and now for the first time it’s available for preorder! So please check it out here on my Etsy. You can also order it with a bunch of goodies here for a few more dollars.

Thank you all so much for your continued support!

The End of Harry Potter

And so we waited.

The line wrapped almost totally around the fourteen-theater building, filled with wizards of the various houses, and even a few Dobby costumes as we anxiously waited to get in. The crowd was so insane, so large, that this small New Jersey town had police both riding bikes and walking around the crowds. One was even working for the theater.

“Theater twelve is opened now. Theater twelve,” the officer, in his blue uniform and shiny badge, was saying as he passed. We frantically looked at our tickers. Damn, we were theater nine.

And so as the officer passed the line, small groups of lucky twelves bolted from the line and ran, full speed, around the corner to the front doors. Some were smart, since we were so far behind the line, to run in the direction that was against the crowd, knowing that at the end of the line they were actually closer to the front doors if they took the other direction.

A guy walked by in a Scooby Doo costume,with a friend dressed as Mario. Me, my girlfriend and my sister were confused.

“Um,” my girlfriend said.

“Who knows.”

A young girl was annoying the shit out of us. Seriously, I’ve never wanted to smack someone more than at this moment.

“My life is going to end tonight. For real. It really is. I will want to die when this is all over. DIE. I’ve lived Harry Potter for my whole life, and tonight I will die.”

Someone in front of her was holding up a DVD player and showing part one, and I could not hear it over her shrill, constant voicing of how she would die tonight. So much for the entertainment of watching the DVD.

So time passes, this girl keeps talking about death, and they finally yell out nine, so we haul ass to the front. At the main doors, there is a clusterfuck of people trying to shove their way in; there is no method to this theater’s Harry Plan at all. Cops and ushers are trying to regain order, but to no avail. We’re shoved in between about a hundred people trying to get in while others whose theater has not been called have formed a wall, keeping us legitimate patrons out.

That’s when I realized that our fourth friend, who was stuck in traffic, would not be able to get her ticket from us.

“I have to wait out here for her” I yelled above the noise. “You guys get us seats!” I pushed my way to the back of this cluster as they continued to push forward. Then  waited for my phone to ring. She finally called about ten minutes later and I found her.

“They called our theater. We just have to push through this,” I said, pointing to the wall of people. Her eyes widened.

That’s when I noticed a girl with pink hair who seemed to know the trick. She stood out from the crowd and I could see her making her way through rather easily, and I said to my friend, “We need to follow her!”

I pushed my way through until I was behind her, and just as I caught up to the pink-haired girl, a path opened and she, her friend and the two of us poured through the crowd and easily made our way in.

The concession lines were small and we needed soda since the film was almost three hours and it was already midnight, so I called the others, who gave me drink orders and told us where they were sitting. A short while later and we were in the theater looking for them. My sister got up and waved, so we started to make our way. When I got to the row, I stopped. The annoying girl was sitting right next to us.

“Seriously?” I asked my girlfriend.

“She sat down after we did! It couldn’t be helped!”

And so I slumped into my seat and waited for the movie. It was a blast, the wait. I love the midnight show for two reasons. One, everyone is SO excited and acts nuts. Two, many dress up. It was intense.

“When I say Harry you say Potter!” a girl yelled.

“Harry!”

“POTTER!” the whole crowd yelled. It was cute.

During the actual film, which I loved, the obnoxious girl was crying the whole second half. Maybe crying isn’t the right word. Sobbing. Uncontrollably. To the point her mom said “Shut up!” to her. I wanted to clap.

After the film, everyone clapped, cheered and cried a bit. It was over. A big part of our lives had just ended, and there was nothing we could do but get in our cars, go home and dream of Harry, Hermoine and Ron. And Neville…let’s not forget Neville, who finally got to be the hero he deserved to be.

Magazine Publication, Part II

A magazine for and about artists.

Hello all! Care to see my work in yet another magazine? The wonderful crew over at Racing Minds Magazine have featured me in their August issue.

The online version is here. A paper copy is also available here if you care to purchase it. Please check out all of the amazing artists, photographers and creative minds that come together in this excellent publication.

The Z Word Origin Stories – Kathy

 

 

Author’s note: If you’ve read The Z Word, there was a little confusion over names and there were two women named Kathy in the story. One, a sixteen-year-old, lived with her parents and ran away during the apocalypse. This is not her origin. This is Kathy, the bad-ass late-teens gal who eventually met and teamed up with Zachary. Enjoy!

Click the image to like us on Facebook. And if you haven’t read The Z Word, you should. 🙂

Kathy hit the punching bag over and over as the song Bad Reputation by Joan Jett blasted in the background. She took a break from her workout to play some air guitar. She resembled the old Joan Jett poster she had hung on the workout room wall behind her; her dark brown hair was even cut in a similar fashion. After a few more chords on her invisible instrument, she hit the bag until the song ended and then walked over to the stereo and hit stop as she heard the front door slam.

Sid entered the workout room and smiled. “Quite a sweat you’ve got going on…tough workout?”

She shook her head and smiled. “If you’re asking if I’m too tired to spar a little, I’m up for it.”

He grinned and tried to look at the back of his arm. That’s when she noticed the blood and grew concerned.

“What happened there?”

He saw the rips in the shirt he was wearing and tore off the blood-splattered sleeve. “Nothing, some crazy guy bit me on the way home. It kind of burns a little.”

“I’ll get some peroxide.” She walked down the hall towards the bathroom and yelled over her shoulder, “But don’t think you can use this as an excuse for losing when we spar!”

She returned with the peroxide and a towel and dabbed his arm. “Oh you big baby, there’s just a few teeth marks. You’re fine. Just barely broke the skin. Ready?” she said, smacking the cuts.

“Ow! Jerk. Just for that I’m not holding back!” he said as he put on the gloves. She just laughed at him.

“Yeah…like you ever hold back.”

He walked up to her and put his hands out, which she bumped with her own. “Ready?”

He nodded and she punched him in the jaw faster than he could react. He backed up and shook his head, then laughed. “That all you got?”

Punches were thrown, most were blocked on both sides, and each worked up a sweat as they switched between punches and banter until Sid seemed to slow down a bit and was hit a few more times.

Kathy became worried. “You okay? It’s not usually this easy. And you’re looking a little green.”

He pulled off the gloves. “Yeah, I’m not feeling so hot. I think we’d better stop for now.” She nodded and took off her gloves.

She smiled at him. “Guess I’ll take a shower. Go lie down and I’ll make dinner when I get out! Maybe some soup for you…something light since you’re looking so sick.”

Kathy got undressed and slid the glass door shut on the shower, letting the cold water run over her sweaty body. As she washed the soap off, she noticed a shadow through the glass. She finished up and turned off the water.

“Feeling better already, Sid? Trying to catch a glimpse?” she said with a laugh as she reached out for her towel. He walked toward the door and she slammed it on him. “Oh no, you have to work for it if you want some!” she laughed as she dried off with the towel and wrapped it around her. Sid approached the foggy glass and then slammed a hand against it, scaring her.

“Sid? What the hell?” she said with anger as she opened the glass door. He turned to look at her and she noticed a different look in his eyes, almost cloudy. “Sid?”

He lunged at her and she dove across the bathroom, all while keeping the towel wrapped around her body. He fell through the door of the shower, shattering glass everywhere.  “What the hell, Sid?” she asked as he jumped up, glass sticking out of his chest and face. He growled a little and went for her again. This time she was better prepared and threw a right uppercut, hitting him square in the jaw and knocking him off his feet. She slammed the bathroom door and shoved a chair under the knob so he was trapped.

She ran to their bedroom and threw on a vintage Runaways tee, skipping the bra and underwear to throw on a pair of black skinny jeans. She heard slamming against the bathroom door and then a scream from outside their studio apartment. She ran to the window to see two little kids being chased by a man covered in blood.

She thought about what she saw outside and what was in her bathroom, the man she loved turned into something else, and knew what was going on. She’d seen the movies. It was zombies. She grabbed Sid’s aluminum baseball bat and jumped onto the ancient fire escape. The ladder, rusted stuck, wouldn’t give so she jumped with her full weight onto it and as it clanged loose held on until it jerked to a stop, almost flinging her from it. She jumped the last four feet and landed as the kids ran by her.

The zombie stopped, looked from the children to her, and let out a piercing sound almost like a scream as it started in her direction. One swift swing of the bat to its head took it down and she turned to the kids. “Are you two okay?”

They nodded without making a sound until one pointed behind Kathy and screamed. She turned to find two more monsters right on top of her. She screamed to the kids “Run home and don’t stop for anything! Lock yourselves in!” The two monsters pushed her into the glass behind her, shattering it as she dropped the bat and held both creatures at the throat so they couldn’t bite her. They pushed and clawed at her, one scratching at her arm as she put a foot into each of the monsters’ chests and pushed with all her strength. They both toppled backward and fell as she reached around for a weapon in the window display. The window belonged to an old army-navy surplus store and lucky for her had a crossbow under the splintered glass on the display floor. She grabbed it just as the zombies stood and let loose with an arrow, shooting one in the head. She loaded as the second walked in her direction, firing as it got close but only hitting the shoulder. She quickly reloaded and this time hit the target.

She stood in the display, brushing glass from her body and looking around. The cut on her arm was more of a scratch and hadn’t drawn blood, but she knew she would need more protection, and that’s when she saw the dummy in the window wearing a long, black leather coat. She snagged that and went into the store to see what else she could find for protection. The dark building had the usual stuff, camouflage clothing, camping gear, old army surplus items, but nothing really lethal until she noticed the curtain covering a doorway to a back room.

“Jackpot,” she said as she pulled the curtain back. Guns, swords and all kinds of illegal weapons garnered the walls. She took what she wanted.

Back at her apartment, Kathy used the hidden key to get in the front door. She looked toward the bathroom door, which was now splintered, half of the remnants hanging from the hinges and the rest in small pieces on the floor.  She reached into the backpack she now carried and grabbed the handle of the shotgun she’d taken from the store. A scratching sound came from the kitchen and she turned in time to see Sid, or what used to be Sid, coming at her slowly.

She aimed the shotgun at her boyfriend’s head and fired.

 

The Melancholy Robot and the Hot Dog Vendor

Come back tomorrow for the finale of The Melancholy Robot!

The robot watched the man purchase a hot dog from the vendor. It mimicked the man’s actions – moving its jaw hinge up and down, chewing imaginary food. Its jaw made a grinding sound since it wasn’t created for this purpose. It knew that food would ruin its mechanisms and internal clogs, and that it had no swallowing apparatus. So the robot looked away.

Today’s art was created by Jessica Smith.

The Melancholy Robot and Curiosity

The robot approached a sign that said YMCA and curiosity got the better of it. Upon entering, its glass optical units fogged over and it was forced to wipe them with its robot hands. It had entered a dangerous area with one of its natural enemies, humidity, and it knew this but just had to investigate.  It watched the humans, with much less covering than they usually wore, jumping into a big bluish pool of water. They laughed, smiled, exercised, it seemed to the robot to be a happy place for them.  One ran and a man with a loud implement in his mouth forced the child to slow down with a piercing noise. The robot heard someone yell “Cannonball!” and as he hit the water a little sprayed the robot, and it knew it had to leave. This was no place for a metallic man.

Artwork by Ryan Vecci. Go to www.laserbaked.blogspot.com for Ryan’s website. The last two installments of The Melancholy Robot will come next week, but for now check out the old stories.

The Melancholy Robot and the Dump

The robot reached the top of the hill and spotted a sign that said City Dump; it looked over the mounds of garbage, piled all the way to a distant river. The robot felt as close to sad as it could; it recognized humankind’s vast wastefulness, clearer now than it was in the city. It could not fathom why they refused to mulch what they could, why some ignored recycling when areas like this dump could be so easily avoided.
The robot wanted to do something about it, but what could one mechanical being do?

Today’s art is created by the talented Emily Homrok. Emily is co-editor of Pitbull Magazine and is available as a freelance artist. Email her at ehomrok@gmail.com if you wish to contact her!