I want to ride my bicycle.

It was about two months ago when Tim decided to give me a job at the bike shop.  I didn't know much about bicycles, but what I lacked in knowledge, punctuality, and experience I made up for with my good looks and expensive cologne.  

He's been showing me how to tighten bolts and other things during the past few time-units in an effort to help me not die on the next big trip I've been planning.  For this, I am forever indebted to him. For Real.  

Rather than swimming to Kazakhstan for a meet-and-greet with the Olympic wrestling team, I decided that Highway 101 would be a less sweaty and more pastoral adventure. So, I'm getting on a one-way train to Seattle in September, bicycle in tow, and heading South. 

"Not all those who wander are lost" is how the quote goes, I think.  Anyways, for this I am excited and saving my pennies.  

In other news, Eduardo Corral will be giving a reading at my alma mater, the University of Wisconsin-Platteville, on September 6th.  For this, I am also excited.  I read his debut collection, Slow Lightning, and GOTdamn.  Things are happening.  Real things.

My next batch of crooked-toothed wordballs has been carrier-pigeoned to two literary journals, Jellyfish and Hobo Camp Review,  from whom I am anxiously awaiting a swift and frigid rejection. Huzzah!

Mixed Fruit recently announced their Carson Prize poetry and fiction contest.  Free to enter, and y'all can win $100.  That's a lotta dog biscuits.  Write down words!

Lastly, Jersey Devil Press announced Ryan Werner's gut-pummeling debut here.  It's a surefire All-American power chord, folks.  I, for one, can't wait to feast upon his words. And by that I mean I'm going to eat most of the copies they press.  

AND THAT'S PRETTY RAD.

***

best,

-m

[I'm twenty-one years old & sitting bitch in my father's 1984 Ford F-150.]

"I'm a human being, goddamit! My life has value!"

It's Monday afternoon.  I'm sitting in front of my computer typing this during one of the hottest and driest summers in recorded Wisconsin history.  Maybe this serves as the only impetus for creating a blog about myself.  My life, writing, travel, &c, &c.  As if the one thing that the world needs is another ego-centric white male with access to a computer and the interwebs espousing his life's importance.  Even worse: blaming the weather.

But, I've noticed that a lot of living writerly folks are running blogs.  My mentor/professor, Kara Candito, for example. Ocean Vuong, a young poet whose work I admire. Even my friend and faux-dirtbag and soon-to-be-published author Ryan Werner seems to be playing the game.

So, let's get started.

Here I am reading from my work at the University of Wisconsin-Platteville's Thomas Hickey Creative Writing awards 2012.  I feel like a scared duckling learning to quack, but the work still seems to resonate in those familiar places that it came from. Thanks to Kara for posting the video, and to whoever you are for shooting it.

Here's a clip from Network, circa 1976:




all the best,

-m