Mythic Delirium #12 is on sale now at Project Pulp. It has poems by Ursula K. Le Guin, Bruce Boston, and yours truly. :) Get it today!
Mythic Delirium Magazine Issue 12
Edited by Mike Allen
Synopsis
Mythic Delirium is a biannual journal that publishes science fiction, fantasy, horror, surreal, and cross-genre poetry. We are interested in work that demonstrates ambition, that casts new light on genre tropes, that introduces readers to the legends of other cultures, that re-evaluates the myths of old from a modern perspective, that twists reality in unexpected ways. Our 12th issue features a classic reprint from Ursula K. Le Guin, plus terrific long experimental poems from Kendall Evans and Sonya Taaffe, and a medley of shorter works.
Poetry:
Genetics - Charles Saplak Tarot in the Dungeon - Sonya Taaffe The Magic of Crystals - Christina Sng Rapunzel, Rapunzella - Kendall Evans The Bitter Watches - David C. Kopaska-Merkel Wordhoard - Ursula K. Le Guin Survive - John Peery Lost Over East Texas - Ann K. Schwader Getting the Most Out of Your Retractive Tools - Robert Frazier All That Surrounds Us - Roger Dutcher The Last Cut - Jennifer Crow Stardust - Marcie Lynn Tentchoff Curse of Tinkerbell's Husband - Bruce Boston Prosthetic Wings - K.S. Hardy Eelgrass and Blue - Sonya Taaffe The Damsel's Unicorn - Yoon Ha Lee
Artwork:
Tim Mullins Don Eaves & Terrence Mollendor Paula Friedlander Bob Snare Gary Bryant Daniel Trout
Review Blurbs
Paul Di Filippo, Asimov's Science Fiction "More fantastical stanzas can be found in the latest colorful issue of Mythic Delirium . . . . a zoo of wonders indeed."
My surreal poem The Art of Weaving received an Honourable Mention in the Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, 18th Annual Edition. This may well be my last nod unless I start writing again. It is an important incentive. It has always been my dream to see my work (not merely my name) in the same book as Neil Gaiman and other horror and science fiction luminaries.
Losing 2 years of work had been quite a blow to me at the same time when work swept me up in its wake of which I never quite recovered. Perhaps I just need to retreat to that place I am always at when I write, curled up under my blankets with my art book and black pen. Or it is simply a matter of commitment as it was when I first started. Not leaving the spot till I've written 5 poems, publishable or not.
It is a place to start weaving again. Tomorrow night. Actually, it is already tomorrow.
The premiere issue of Tales of the Talisman is now on sale at Project
Pulp. This gorgeous glossy issue includes 2 of my poems "Medusa in LA" and
"Passing Through". :)
Boy's been hanging with Buffy quite a bit. A strange but endearing relationship. :)
While watching Buffy this evening, Buf leapt up onto the couch and cuddled against me for the whole duration of the episode. It was very sweet and her Dad was quite amazed.
Just 2 minutes ago, the two were lounging in the corridor when I called Boy. I was so surprised to see him get up, walk by to the computer table and let me pick him up and sit him on my lap for a few minutes before he decided to wrangle himself out of my embrace and lie on the floor by my feet instead. :D
It's been his favourite spot for a long time, despite it being rather hazardous. He has had his tail run over by my chair several times when I get up in a hurry. I do remember to keep an eye out for him these days. He does blend into the carpet...
I woke up yesterday morning to Kaku's gentle mrrow mrrow. Got up, petted her for a really long time and then opened the bedroom door to let the bedlam in.
The kids really appreciated me being home, I could tell. Boy was constantly following me everywhere and the Three Naughties sat with me all afternoon and evening as I watched Buffy reruns.
Tux chatted with me while I picked him up ("mrow ow", he said) and Sam animatedly sang out a mrreeeow mreeow while sitting on the stairs past midnight.
Boy howled some but quietened down instantly when I called his name and blinked at him. I think after being away, all of them are worried I'll leave again. I reassured them and carried them all.
They've all settled down to sleep now, except for me Cheese Taster-filled tummied human mother person.
For most of my life, I had been haunted by an old movie I watched as a child. The story was about a woman with special powers, the sea, and a giant turtle bigger than a ship.
One of my life's goals was to swim with turtles, in their domain the sea. I achieved that last week. It reminded me of the source of that inspiration.
Remembering just the actress's name, I searched IMDB for Connie Selleca. And there it was... right at the bottom of her credits list was The Bermuda Depths (1978). Here's a review.
Confident I'd have that DVD in my hands in the next month or so, I searched Google... only to find, along with many disappointed and similar haunted souls that it hasn't been released!
There are a couple of VHS versions on Ebay but I am still mulling. Dang...
Last week I spent most of my time underwater, exploring what would seem to be another world, another dimension, as physicist Michio Kaku saw it as a child.
I spent hours swimming with turtles, met eyes with a baby shark, communicated with a squid, and saw a baby manta ray. It was truly out of this world.
On Saturday morning, I returned home to find that astronomers have discovered a 10th planet 97 astronomical units (AU) from the Sun.
While reading Phil Plait's brilliant Bad Astronomy Blog just a few minutes ago and staring at the picture of the Moon, I suddenly felt a wanderlust to visit another planet again.
The reality check that kicked in before about the actual dangers of space travel and our technological unreadiness to actually explore it faded somewhat and I began to dream about it again.
I conquered my fear of wide-open spaces during this trip to Perhentian and have won back the explorer in me. It is most likely I will never step foot in space during my lifetime, but in my mind's eye, I will, many times, my whole life.
"To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness." -- Bertrand Russell
"Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is the goal of all evolution. Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages."
-- Thomas Edison (Harper's Magazine, 1890)