every book i ever wrote and all their awesome titles

Everyone should be jealous of them. I’m going to list them all here, because it feels like a thing to do. I’ll put them in order of when I started writing them, so it’s in a different order than how they’re published and most of these haven’t been published and some aren’t even finished.

I decided to make this list because I just saw that Noir: A Love Story’s galleys are ready.

noir cover


Noir: A Love Story

The first novel I ever wrote. A detectiveless detective magic realism novel with 26 narrators.

The Day I Swallowed the Moon

An anti-novel that I broke by experimenting. Going to go back and finish it some day because I know how to fix it now. It’s a werewolf novel.


Intensely surreal novel written to be the exact opposite of Noir. It’s a single first person uninterrupted narration. No jumps in time or anything. Just nonstop narration. Full of swordfights and extremely long conversations about the world they live in, which is constantly shifting.

Ash Cinema

My first published novel is a triptych novel about love and Death, and especially about Sebastian Falke, a fictional avant garde filmmaker.


To Leave Only Shadows

An apocalyptic polyphonic magic realism novel that might be psychological horror. 13 narrators. A city in decay, plagued by giant ravens, and spontaneous combustion.


This is the inverse of To Leave Only Shadows. That makes sense if you read To Leave Only Shadows, but this idea came much earlier, and I wrote Shadows to learn how to do this one, which is unfinished and the novel I still think of as my first one. It’s a very old idea and the novel keeps growing to the point that I’m afraid to look at it.

The City of Lost Things

Alternate history. In 1999 half of the moon breaks off, collides with the earth, which sparks a fifty year war that decimates the earth. This takes place from 2001-2049, and is told in five parts. It’s mostly about living in a city at the edge of where the moon crashed, which is called the Lunar Sea and becomes the Lunar Forest. Starts as mostly realism but becomes sort of magic realism/science fiction by the end. Unfinished.


Takes place in the same world as City of Lost Things and is also unfinished. It’s about a one handed female detective living near the City of Lost Things, and is what I’m calling oneiric noir. Intensely surreal and the narration’s pretty fractured and anti-linear.


Takes place in the same world as above but set about 400 years in the future, after wars have torn earth apart, and people search for a new world in ark ships. A surreal space opera about revolution and AI and posthumanism. The people are the second and third generation of people living in the ark ship.

the gods we’re not

Set in the same world as the above but about a hundred years before Poetics. Begins as cyberpunk and turns into a pretty surreal biopunk novel. Still unfinished, but I keep telling myself every six months to go back in and complete this dummy.

And then the Wolves

This is actually the first thing I wrote in the epic fantasy world of Twilight of the Wolves. It’s set about 400 years after and takes place during a war. It’s less obviously fantasy, but it’s rooted in that world.


Unfinished. A verse novel set in the world of Death for the worlds described above. It’s about a boy who grows up in the afterlife and begins fracturing his personality over and over again while all the new dead from the wars are collapsing always into the world of Death. It’s linguistically abrasive and crazy surreal.

To Live [published as Twilight of the Wolves]

My surreal postcolonial inverted epic fantasy. The second novel of mine published. It’s about the clash of cultures, imperialism, democracy, anarchism, religion, war, and especially about what it means to be human.


Transdimensional Transgender Transubstantiation: A Memoir

The most bonkers thing I’ve ever written. Two photons of light escape from an exploding star, get mashed together, land on earth, become a man, who then splits into a man and woman. The woman births a new universe. It’s very strange and surreal.

Paradise, Lost

Another one abandoned because I made a stupid prose experiment that I didn’t like. It’s magic realism and it’s about suicide, bipolar disorder, alchemy, pornography, transhumanism, and the internet. I really should get back to this one. I wrote 20k words in the first 24 hours of it, though I abandoned it three days later because of how I broke it. I know how to fix it though.

The Curious Girl Floating There

My first graphic novel with [stolen] photography by Natsumi Hayashi about a girl who can’t stop floating and the boy who loves her. Hopefully this can someday be published, but I need her permission, which I can’t seem to get.


a palimpsest

My gargantuan novel to end all novels: 101 narrators. Right now it’s about 150k words, which I wrote January of last year. I keep meaning to go back to it but I took a break which accidentally keeps going on. It’ll probably be about 300k words by the time it’s finished, which is sort of why I keep pushing it off. It’s sort of based on how I imagine Roberto Bolano’s life to be, and since I’ve done no research, it’s pretty much just whatever I feel like. It’s a mix of realism, surrealism, apocalyptic fiction, memoir, love note, critical analysis, and epic fantasy. Oh, there’s also a play about a woman who digs up her own grave in the middle.

Times from Before

My second graphic novel, this time using Kyle Thompson‘s photography, but he said he didn’t want me to publish it, so I guess I won’t. It’s pretty intense and surreal and sort of elliptical.


My first poetry collection written over a weekend while feverish. 119 poems, most of them haiku and tanka in style and form.

–i am alone facing the moon rising on the edge of a mountain–

My second collection written over a different weekend using tanka, haiku, and ryuka poetry. 126 poems. It’s dedicated to Yoshiya Chiru, a prostitute poet who starved herself about 400 years ago.

( )

About a man who fades into himself. It’s sort of psychological horror, maybe. About dissolution and dying.

Girl with Ears & Demon with Limp

A serial novel about a girl born with wolf ears set in the same world as Twilight of the Wolves. In this first part she’s thrown into an infinite castle and must fight her way out with the help of an insane man who was trapped in the castle.

Ancient Robots of the Distant Future

Collection of stories and a novella about a robot from our near future who lives for thousands of years. The stories begin in the near future and go through the end of civilisation and to where it begins to rebuild itself, so the robot sort of takes on a mythic quality.

Be Careful, My Children

Another polyphonic novel, 25 narrators. It was meant to be written for J David Osborne’s Broken River Press, and I only had a week to write it. It began as a murder mystery but eventually became something altogether different. It’s both science fiction and fantasy. Set in a reality where the moon cracked and half fell to the earth [much like City of Lost Things, but the timeline diverges]. 150 years before the novel, all white people on earth died, and 50 years after that all the males on the planet died. The world’s dominant cultures are Argentinian and Korean. So this is the third/fourth/fifth generation of a purely female world and the world’s dying from previous cataclysms, and everything’s going extinct except for wolves. People discover a civilisation of human-like creatures who look like tiny males. From there things get very strange. It might actually even be weirder than Transdimensional Transgender Transubstantiation.


13 Angels Screaming at the Mountain

I’ve started this novel three times and scrapped what I had. It’s a novel about giant monsters, and it’s going to be awesome because I had a breakthrough today.

Let me sleep beneath the dirt of a wasted world

Novella set in a world created by the awesome Joseph Michael Owens. It’s about a plant/human hybrid set in a fantasy world who accidentally gains godlike powers.

remember me as a time of day

My third graphic novel, which needs to be rewritten. This iteration is too internal and too much about a very sad moment in my life that I was dealing with by writing this novel. Artwork by the amazing Jazmyn Mares

The Dust Cartographer & Theory of the Infinite Castle

Novella also set in that same world created by Joseph Michael Owens but it takes place in an infinite castle. It’s about a plant growing legs and becoming a mobile creature and a god who’s lived so long her brain’s rotted in her own skull and then the civilisations that have sprouted within the infinite castle believing it to be the whole world.

you are the sea drifting endlessly through the sky

My third poetry collection made of 100 poems in a range of styles, but mostly haiku and ryuka. Probably also dedicated to Yoshiya Chiru.

Wolves at the Shore/We are the Moon Tonight Bathed in Fungal Light

My novel in progress. This is the first first person narration I’ve done since Echoes. It’s a horror novel set a few generations in the future after the earth began fighting back against humanity. Fungus is swallowing civilisation and most of the earth. Lots of biopunk and cyberpunk and fantasy and surrealism and even a few myths. Doing the kind of fun stuff I always do: inventing religions, cultures, and ideologies. And, of course, there are wolves.

So, yeah, those are my novel[la]s and poetry collections. To go along with all that, I have about 600 pages of short fiction, which could use a nifty name. Though it may not look like it, all of the novel[la]s take place in the same interconnected web of realities. The City of Lost Things begins a timeline that stretches into the fantasy world of Twilight of the Wolves. The City of Lost Things is also a world in reflection to the one we live in, which is the reality of Noir and Shadows. Eyepenny is set in yet another reflected reality. Be Careful, My Children is in a timeline that broke off of The City of Lost Things’ timeline. What binds all these various realities together is a consistent mythology and echoes of the worlds in each other, so characters don’t really reappear in different novels, but their shadows do. For example, the protagonist of Eyepenny is the reflected self of a main character in Shadows. Be Careful, My Children is, in a sense, a reflection of Noir, but everything turned to an extreme, and sort of maybe completely insane. Also, the protagonist of Loveless is a character in a film made by Sebastian Falke from Ash Cinema. Sebastian Falke is actually sort of the secret architect of all this, in that his films kickstarted several entwined realities.

But probably you don’t need to know any of that.

Some things that appear in almost everything: dust, wolves, ravens, a child goddess, giant trees/towers, dreams becoming reality, travelling between realities, and finding love in an uncaring world.

But, yeah, probably this is only of interest to me. It also makes me feel like I’ve written much more than I actually have. Hopefully all these novels will some day be real and published. But who’s to say!

for pela via

Today is the end of my novelette (  ). You can find Parts XVIII, XIX, and XX at Manarchy Magazine. With that bit of business out of the way, the rest of this post is dedicated to Pela Via.

Pela Via is one of the coolest people I’ve met in this whole publishing thing. We’re a pretty small community, us writers and editors and publishers, and I’ve managed to meet some really great people here and there, but none of them are quite as awesome as Pela. Maybe it’s because she’s like a big sister/mother figure for me, even though she’s only a few years older than me. Something about her just makes me believe that I’m heading the right way, doing the right things. She makes me feel confident, even when maybe I shouldn’t. She’s endlessly supportive of me and all the things I do, even allowing me to take over Manarchy this last month–which is the last month of Manarchy–with my novelette (  ).

Though (  ) is sort of surreal and chaotic and nowhere, it’s one of the more autobiographical things I’ve written, which probably sounds even stranger if you happened to read any of it, or, dare say, all of it. I was writing most of it on the fly, which maybe shows, but Pela believed in me enough to let me just go for it. Hopefully it turned out well. I actually plan on revising it and releasing it later, and probably it’ll look a great deal different, but I’m very happy with what I have here, right now.

Pela’s also the mastermind behind Warmed & Bound, which is a truly glorious book and it makes me proud every day to know one of my favorite stories I ever wrote is in there. It’s a story that was rejected, like, twenty times and I always thought it was one of the best things I had written, and, finally, Pela was the person to make it real.

More than just her support of my writing, she’s been a very kind friend to me while I’ve been in some of my darkest and most solipsistic hours. I could probably say a lot more about that, but I think it’s best for me to keep those moments out of the public eye. But I’ve had many strange and horrifying nights, haunted nights, and she’s always been kind and understanding, willing to tolerate my insane soliloquies and patient enough to wait for me to wear myself out, so she can start gathering the little fragments of me and help me put them back together.

Along with Warmed & Bound, she made Manarchy Magazine possible. More than that, she made it great. If it weren’t for Pela asking, I never would’ve been a part of things there. When Pela puts her name on something, though, I trust it. I can’t help but trust it.

She’s Pela.

And now I can’t wait to get the time to read Booked, the latest anthology she’s edited, along with Robb and Livius of Booked. Podcast.

We’re not yet sure what comes next for us, this collection of people who seem to orbit around Pela and all that she does. But, whatever it is, I know it’ll be great, so long as we have Pela to guide us. Even if just to point out the paths to take, to shine a light where it needs shining.

So thank you, Pela. Thank you for all that you do and have done.

Team Pela. Always.

a year in stories::thirty eight

Before I get to the next story, I wanted to post links to (  ) Part XVI and XVII. Only three more parts to this novelette.

A new short story today. It’s about the future. I guess, technically, it’s a time travel story, in a way. It’s about choosing to be fat as an act of revolution. Hopefully you enjoy it.

Obese Dreams


You won’t believe this from when you’re reading, but I want you to know that we are not allowed to own things anymore. It started with the Great Purge. That wasn’t some government thing, it was a disease, and it spread wildly. Half the human population died in 2039. Some sort of intense virus that constantly mutated and kept ahead of scientists for two years. The region you know as the American Empire was essentially wiped off the planet, as was its former colony, Mexico.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is that people who were overweight died fastest but also carried the disease furthest. It wasn’t just being fat that killed you, but being obese, which ravaged third world nations dependent on artificial food created by the former empire. The artificiality of the food and the fat cells created this disease and, well, like I said: half the population decimated.

We figured out the cure and immunised ourselves against future outbreaks. We returned to ancient farming techniques, and because no one trusted anyone else’s crops, the world transformed into a largely agrarian society, loosely affiliated. International trade began to decrease as distrust spread from food to any product coming from a place the recipient hadn’t seen. Your worldwide connectivity through the internet was already a relic, as the intense censorship and control imposed by the former Empire basically ceased communication. People were afraid to go online except to look up the most general pieces of information.

Sure, there were still hackers and curious folk who kept up the internet, uploading information, stealing it back from governments, but for most people it became something from a bygone era. My grandmother remembers the day she signed off for the last time and my mother parents never seemed interested with the global community, having been survivors of the purge. But, me, I breathe through the internet.

Most people don’t even have computers anymore, except for novelty shops and the like, but this isn’t about computers. It’s about choice.

All my life I’ve dreamt of being large. I saw pictures in history books of these 20th and 21st century humans, with their immense girth and staggering height, and felt the loss. Most people think that the sizes of the people of the past are exaggerated. How could someone ever be taller than 1.8 meters, they say. How could a human ever weigh even close to 150kg? The notion is absurd to them, living in a world where the adult male tops out around 1.7m and 70kg. There are exceptions, of course. There always are, but even the tallest person here is within a normal range of what you’d expect a human to be.

The more I learnt about the past, the more I wanted to grow. Since I knew I’d never be tall, I chose to be wide.

I snuck meals, stole them, traded extras with other kids. By the time I was fifteen I was already 100kg, my body hanging off me at places, even flapping in strong winds. I measured my waist, the flab hanging from my jaw, and the circumference of my fingers. I wasn’t particularly tall or short, considering the world I live in, but I was only about 1.5m back then.

My mother and father became concerned. The whole village feared me. I was barred from continuing education or remaining in the longhouses with the others. I was ostracised, but I had the computer, the internet still defiantly alive. I found others obsessed with the past, with the size humanity once was, but none had gone as far as me. Still, none attempt what I daily live.

After being banished, I began to wander. From town to town to village to city, I was kept at bay. They believed I was a carrier, or worse: some monster from the past. As years went by and I continued to grow, word spread of me and my journey. Not only was I all over the internet, but my reputation preceded me in the cities and villages I passed through. Talking to no one but eating all I could gather, I grew. As I grew far past what humanity thought I could be, there were those who began to follow and feed me.

None of them attempted what I do, but they were filled with my defiant revolution. At 2.1 meters tall and 250kg, I am a giant in a world of hungry humans.

But as my fame grew with my size, so did my enemies. Fear is a powerful motivator and I ran into violence for the first time.

I was thirty years old, had learnt all there was to know about your wars and acts of aggression, but only then did I finally experience and understand what it was to be hated. I have read your tracts on racism, sexism, and every other kind of ism. Even for me, believer that I am, I couldn’t really begin to believe that such trivial things caused such chasms between people.

I was attacked outside of a town I had just left. Beating until bleeding, I managed to escape with the aid of some of my followers. I had a considerable amount by them, on this neverending pilgrimage with me, but I lost five that day. Five dead because I choose to live as they fear to!

It would be laughable if I couldn’t still hear their screaming in my dreams.

I understand their fear. I truly do. But they cannot understand what it means to go against popular opinion.

We are small societies. There are no rulers or appointed judges or even squadrons of police, as you have. The world is largely at peace, but it’s because they’re asleep. We have been trained into docility, programmed to obey.

But I fought back and now I will soon be dead.

Yesterday, over 100 of my followers were murdered in their sleep. Their blood was smeared around me spelling out the ways in which they intend to torture me and flay me alive.

I believe they may even eat me.

And so I am sending this back to you.

Beware those who will take from you out of fear.

I can hear them hammering on the door. I’ll soon be dead, but this will reach you through binary series. All you need to do is let go of Time, let it run freely and wash over you. If you can figure out how, you can change all of this. You can see what the future we’re building is like. You can prevent it. You can shape it.

Good luck.

something positive

It’s a pretty shit day, but I thought I’d share a few positive things.

EFF [Electronic Freedom Frontier] won its case against the government, which will lead to the release of the FISA court ruling that says the NSA surveillance is unconstitutional. Read the full thing here.

For over a year, EFF has been fighting the government in federal court to force the public release of an 86-page opinion of the secret Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court (FISC). Issued in October 2011, the secret court’s opinion found that surveillance conducted by the NSA under the FISA Amendments Act was unconstitutional and violated “the spirit of” federal law.

Also, this great speech by an intern for Teach for america:

Also, this is a pretty depressing but ultimately hopeful look at what the labor movement is and why it matters:

Oh, also, Part XV of (  ) is now up at Manarchy Magazine. Only five more days of this.

Read here.

And, because I can’t help it, just a few very depressing things. I won’t say much about them, just post the links.

Obama DOJ asks Courts to Grant Immunity to the Bush Administration for War Crimes on the same day Bradley Manning was sentenced for exposing those war crimes.

Syria just keeps getting worse.

US military blocks Guardian site for soldiers abroad.

Maybe one day soon I’ll be able to make a purely positive post.

I hope.

For now, keep dreaming. Keep fighting.

exploring uptown

is what I did with the beautiful Chelsea and Rachel, those Tennessee ladies who found their way here to the great white north.

Watched a movie I dug quite a bit called The Spectacular Now:

Might write something about it soon, but I’m too weary at the moment.

Oh, also, really want to see this:

And then, other news: Part XIV of (  ) is up now at Manarchy Magazine.

some business things

Trying to find work as a freelance editor/writer is more difficult than I expected but I think I’ve found some pretty good resources to at least get my feet wet. Anyrate, this post isn’t really about business. It’s about recent publications.

My serialised novelette (  ) continues at Manarchy Magazine:

Part VII


Part IX

Part X

Part XI

Part XII


The great DB Cox had this to say about (  ):

I don’t think I’ve read such a pouring out of existential despair since Sartre’s “Nausea.”

“So long as a person’s identity depends on qualities that can crumble, he is considered to be in perpetual despair. And as there is, in Sartrean terms, no human essence found in conventional reality on which to constitute the individual’s sense of identity, despair is a universal human condition…”

Also, my interview with Merrill Joan Gerber about The Hysterectomy Waltz.

Also, for my yearly stories that I’ve been posting here on the site, I’ve added a page for finding them easier. It’s in a constant state of update, but just click here.

more ( )

The novelette goes onward:

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Also interviewed xTx at Monkeybicycle. Just got some answers back from Giannina Braschi, which will go up in two weeks. Super excited about posting that one, as she gave amazing answers to my fumbling questions.

Never have any idea if I’m doing interviews well. They’re so strange to do, but hopefully people dig them. I mean, I guess, for me, the goal is to take all the focus off me and put it on them, because no one reads an interview for the interviewer. It’s about the person being interviewed, so I just try to get out of the way and let them talk.

Went to The National the other day with the generous and awesome Nate Tower, editor and founder of Bartleby Snopes. Got to here these guys as the opener:

What else? My last day of my job is tomorrow and I’ve nothing lined up, which is bad planning, but hopefully something comes soon. Working on two novels for J David Osborne and thinking up all kinds of ideas on the otherside of publishing, randomly.

Busy busy busy.

new novelette

And it’s called (  ).

It’s being serialised at Manarchy for twenty weekdays all through the month of August. It’s a surreal psychological horror about a human trapped in darkness. Twenty parts, each five hundred words, which will leave it at a nice round 10,000 words.

Part I

Part II

But, yeah, came to me all at once and it’s for Manarchy’s last month. A sort of last hurrah for what we’ve done over the last year. No idea where it’s headed or how we’ll get there, as I’m writing it every day as it goes on. Hopefully you dig it. Yeah, you. Just you.