Jacob Lawrence, The Studio (1977)
This writing is a daily workbook
for fiction emphasizing formal experimentation.
"Blogging as Cubism"
explains.
Several of these pieces have appeared in online literary 'zines, including
Comrades.
Physik Garden,
The SoMa Literary Review,
Big Bridge,
Inkburns,
Word Riot,
Epiphany,
and others.
During the month of November 2002,
The Blue Moon Review
linked to them as their first-ever "Guest Blog."
These are among the best lit pubs on the 'net.
Totally rad.
Here's the
publication
history.
Here's a grouping of
strong pieces.
Here's some more
experimental fiction,
often based on the same techniques.
Click here to
E-mail this page to a friend.
"My skewed vision was that of a man looking at himself by looking at what he looks at."
--William Least Heat-Moon, Blue Highways
Mark's Pages
May 25, 2009:
Who do we cry for, when someone dies?
I don't want to be in this house anymore.
I feel I have missed this lifetime. Missed, utterly, past all hope of redemption or recovery.
May 24, 2009:
How did she cope with the loss of her two older cats? She had no-one.
She wanted no-one. It was her choice.
May 23, 2009:
She asked me once,
"Is the reason we keep coming back that we fail to become married?"
Equally likely our failure is the failure to avoid each other like poison.
- May 22, 2009: I feel like the father of a daughter at college...
- May 21, 2009: One day before we knew each other well she told me how elated she'd been to watch surfers at sunrise.
- May 20, 2009: I sat at your desk, thinking...
- May 19, 2009: Experimental diet: all comfort food.
- May 18, 2009: Smug-ass white man in a smug-ass white shirt.
- May 17, 2009: Did you mourn like this when your older cats died?
- May 16, 2009: I don't know.
- May 15, 2009: I used to like...
- May 14, 2009: She loved investigating the laundry room...
- May 13, 2009: My pleasure as they burst out laughing:
- May 12, 2009: The parents are coming to understand.
- May 11, 2009: Grief and grieving.
- May 10, 2009: Empty house.
- May 9, 2009: She had the courage...
- May 8, 2009: She suffers. I can do nothing.
- May 7, 2009: I hate coming home...
- May 6, 2009: If Satan had come to me and said...
- May 5, 2009: She is what she is.
- May 4, 2009: The Church says: Heaven is not for animals.
- May 3, 2009: Why do I never dream of you?
- May 2, 2009: It rained while she died.
- May 1, 2009: That's what these emails are...
- April 30, 2009: Everybody dies. I know.
- April 29, 2009: Awaken with a great feeling of let-down...
- April 28, 2009: "I want to leave my door open..."
- April 27, 2009: Life doesn't care about individuals.
- April 26, 2009: Alright, I fucking get it, okay?
- April 25, 2009: I ran errands in town today.
- April 24, 2009: Credit collection calls.
- April 23, 2009: You put us here for a hearbeat.
- April 22, 2009: Ravaged voice, broken, capable only of whispers.
- April 21, 2009: Short man, skin darkened...
- April 20, 2009: People on the street...
- April 19, 2009: White-haired woman...
- April 18, 2009: "Then we went to see the Tribute to the Beatles..."
- April 17, 2009: Middle-aged woman...
- April 16, 2009: I'm no longer as suspicious of her motives.
- April 15, 2009: The joys and tragedies of her little life.
- April 14, 2009: Bones.
- April 13, 2009: She took me to lunch for a belated birthday present.
- April 12, 2009: She's Tahitian that way.
- April 11, 2009: Although it's merely a plastic gun, the bullets are real.
- April 10, 2009: Spent the morning picking up clutter.
- April 9, 2009: Murky seawater.
- April 8, 2009: I don't have to wait for her while she shops.
- April 7, 2009: I can keep the house tidy and free of clutter.
- April 6, 2009: I don't have to listen to music in the car anymore.
- April 5, 2009: Fires in the canyon.
- April 4, 2009: Strange bedroom that slopes.
- April 3, 2009: Your friend calls: very drunk.
- April 2, 2009: Broken accordion.
- April 1, 2009: An old man is in the room.
© 2002-2010 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.
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