Tuesday, May 7, 2013

...in which your humble bag of shit remembers he has a blog.

Oh hi. Let's say this is me just coming around and vamping the cottage after a long, shitty winter. Excuse the rumble in the pipes and the disgusting taste in the water; that'll pass.

Did you know that Maisonneuve reviewed The Cloaca forever ago? Here's the proof. It's awesome to be called "one of Canada's most criminally undervalued writers," but how does a guy shake that bad rap? You know, to become one of Canada's most criminally overvalued writers. It's an either/or thing, I swear.

In other news, May is Short Story Month. Duh. Chad Pelley over at Salty Ink is doing a story a day. Today he had some hot shit shit to say about "The Price You Pay for Leaving the House." Check it out.

So now that the water's turned back on, I'm off to Value Village to find some half-complete board games to fill the cabin that this internet place apparently is now. A dearth of functional pieces just means you get fucked up and make your own rules, so never mind about complete games.
The characters in Andrew Hood’s The Cloaca (Invisible Publishing) are not happy people. Many of them are failed artists who suddenly find themselves pushing forty with little to show for it, a leitmotif that might be tiresome and depressing were it not for Hood’s comic bite. One sad woman finds comfort in a “queer backyard spandex wrestling league”; elsewhere, a nude man who’s just been egged by a pack of teenagers reaches down to “pluck his penis back out of his body.” Despite winning the Danuta Gleed Award for his previous collection Pardon Our Monsters (Esplanade Books), Hood remains one of Canada’s most criminally undervalued writers; lovers of witty, understated fiction would do well to pick up The Cloaca. - See more at: http://maisonneuve.org/news/2012/06/18/book-room-issue-44/#sthash.9qXvxqnE.dpuf
The characters in Andrew Hood’s The Cloaca (Invisible Publishing) are not happy people. Many of them are failed artists who suddenly find themselves pushing forty with little to show for it, a leitmotif that might be tiresome and depressing were it not for Hood’s comic bite. One sad woman finds comfort in a “queer backyard spandex wrestling league”; elsewhere, a nude man who’s just been egged by a pack of teenagers reaches down to “pluck his penis back out of his body.” Despite winning the Danuta Gleed Award for his previous collection Pardon Our Monsters (Esplanade Books), Hood remains one of Canada’s most criminally undervalued writers; lovers of witty, understated fiction would do well to pick up The Cloaca. - See more at: http://maisonneuve.org/news/2012/06/18/book-room-issue-44/#sthash.9qXvxqnE.dpuf
The characters in Andrew Hood’s The Cloaca (Invisible Publishing) are not happy people. Many of them are failed artists who suddenly find themselves pushing forty with little to show for it, a leitmotif that might be tiresome and depressing were it not for Hood’s comic bite. One sad woman finds comfort in a “queer backyard spandex wrestling league”; elsewhere, a nude man who’s just been egged by a pack of teenagers reaches down to “pluck his penis back out of his body.” Despite winning the Danuta Gleed Award for his previous collection Pardon Our Monsters (Esplanade Books), Hood remains one of Canada’s most criminally undervalued writers; lovers of witty, understated fiction would do well to pick up The Cloaca. - See more at: http://maisonneuve.org/news/2012/06/18/book-room-issue-44/#sthash.9qXvxqnE.dpuf

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