New work on Native lit and Sherman Alexie and other matters up at Electric Literature.

book case locked


On Ice

Honored and thrilled to have this story, “On Ice”  about Chicago, Pottawattomie Park, Batman, PCP, Crème de Menthe, Zayre’s, and Dreamerz published in BlackCackle over at Entropy. Thank you so much, August Evans, for running this piece. Glad to know at least one other person thinks it’s funny. Click through and judge for yourself. Oh. Definitely NSFW, in case your lips start moving when you read.chicago cops in street


New Work — BoyJoe

State Of Grace Gary OldmanNew work up over at Literary Orphans — honored and thankful to have BoyJoe included in their #ShirleyJackson issue!

“This Boy Joseph cat’s got red medium length hair held back with sunglasses, like a manband, a guy’s hairband, he’s a 42-year old Irish gangbanger eating a sandwich, mouth wide open the whole time, bologna and miracle whip and shit coming out when he chews, black tank top, Black Panther leather jacket one or two sizes too big…”






December 24th, 2016

wá. n. snow, snowflake (if size indicated)
Wašíču n. fat taker, white person
wašíŋ, n. lard, fat. n.n. (nickname) ex. Wašíŋ, Ray Little Weasel /Levoi’s name, given to him by his dad, the clichéd unnamed bad-teethed Indian in Thunderheart:

He called me Wašíŋ, he said it meant ‘Good Boy.’

Snow and fat are flying on the Northern Plains…


New Story Up at ENTROPY


I finally light this cigarette that’s been hanging out of my mouth while I’ve been digging for some matches. After I take the first drag it rips a piece of skin off my bottom lip because I left it there too long and it got stuck. As I take to cussing and trying to stop all the blood I accidentally step on this baby bird that must’ve fallen out of its nest…I hear its little dry bones splinter. I make a face.




Stephen Graham Jones‘s MONGRELS does all those things you want a book to do—comes with a cool cover, tells a great story, gives consideration to those small details of life that make life worth noticing, makes you want it to not end, makes you want to turn right back to the front cover and start all over again right then and there, and is about werewolves. Does it get better than that? Yeah. Because for young werewolves and their relations (those who are not, but would prefer to be werewolves), it gives hope in those ways that help you to remember on those days when it seems it somehow never could, it will get better.

Your immersion in the story is necessary, and Jones holds your paw and brings you right in. Every fucked up school moment, every scary on the street who is this older dude and what does he want moment, every sure I can eat this for lunch moment, every am I a part of this family moment jumps off pages which cease to exist about five minutes in and then you’re hopelessly part of the family too, wishing for some ungodly reason that you had a strawberry wine cooler and maybe lived in a disposable trailer. You wait for the next family history, the notes that you seem to already know that make the story work and are surprised to learn there might be some new ways to wolf out, ways you might have considered and now have license to know, and maybe even to try.

In the end, you’re left with some questions to accompany your continuous replay of the story in your head—“Will there be a sequel?” “How many times can I read this until it comes out?” “Who’s going to play them in the movie?” and a final thought: I wish I hadn’t read this yet, ‘cause I wish I was starting it right now.