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.
Posted in flash fiction, Typography
Tagged 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, art, artists, beauty, childhood, children, couples, dating, death, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, hipster, humor, kitsch, life, love, magazine, magazine publishing, people, photo, photograph, photographers, photography, photos, pictures, published, Racing Minds, relationships, romance, sad, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
Hey all! For those of you who follow me here, I wanted to let everyone know my first short story EVER to be published in a magazine is available online today! The story, originally published here on my blog (but since taken down for publishing) is called I Heart Polka (And I’m Not Talking About the Dots). Click here to purchase the Instigatorzine issue. Here’s the cover:
Scroll to the bottom of the page to order it. They even have it for Kindle!
And be sure to check out the cool Melancholy Robot stories I’ve been doing along with many talented artists!
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged art, beauty, couples, dating, fiction, flash fiction, friends, humor, Instigatorzine, kitsch, life, love, magazine, magazine publishing, marriage, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, polka, published, relationships, romance, short story, writing
“What are those?” she said, crinkling her nose as she usually would to a vegetable she discovered on her plate that she didn’t like.
“They were called Barrel of Monkeys. This was the only toy my great grandmother had at her house, so every year on New Year’s Day we would be forced to play with them because there was nothing else to do.”
She poked one as if they would bite. “They look boring.” A typical four-year-old response. “How do we play?”
“Well,” I said, picking up a red one. “You’re supposed to start with one, and try to hook another one onto his tail by the hand. See?” I demonstrated. She didn’t look amused. I picked up a yellow one by the hand, and then proceeded to a green one.
“Let me try?”
“Of course, that’s why I got them.”
She picked one up, yellow of course, that being her favorite, and she started trying. After a few failed attempts she got one and I applauded her.
“Yeah, I guess.”
She tried again, and again, getting five in a chain before she dropped them.
“This is boring.”
“It is not, watch. I’ll try to get a bunch.”
I picked up one, hooked it to another, then another, then another, and kept going until I had about ten. She had picked up a copy of ReadyMade magazine and started turning pages as if she could read it, and I realized I was playing alone. I dropped the string of seven monkeys I had going and with my hand swept them all back into the barrel.
“You’re right. These are boring.”
She smiled and went back to pretending to read the magazine.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged barrel of monkeys, childhood, family, fiction, flash fiction, games, humor, kids, kitsch, life, love, magazine, monkey, photography, photos, playing, ReadyMade, relationships, toys, vintage
“I appreciate you.”
She looked up from the magazine she was reading and raised an eyebrow.
“What? I do,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked as she closed her copy of Under the Radar and placed it next to her.
“I was just thinking,” I started, “this is so nice. We’re sitting here together, reading, me on one couch, you on the other, and I’m really…”
She smiled and moved over to my couch. “Anything else you’d like to say?”
“Mhmm. I adore you. These simple moments, it’s too hot to cuddle, what with the heat wave, and we can’t really do much, so we’re just sitting here, relaxing, not even really feeling the need to chat.”
“Well, until now. Now you’re talking.”
“True, but now you’re cuddling. And it’s 100+ degrees out.”
“Not if you include the heat index.”
“What does that even mean, the heat index?”
“I love that you always call me out.”
“Hey, you do it too,” she said, sliding even closer and putting her arm around me.
“Dude. It’s too hot to cuddle.”
“It’s too hot to talk, too,” she said as she got up, went back to her couch and returned to her magazine .
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged beauty, entertainment, fiction, heat wave, life, love, magazine, musings, random, reading, relationships, romance, Under the Radar