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Posts tagged ‘Pithead Chapel’

“Toroid” Nominated for a Pushcart Prize!

I am thrilled and honored that my short story, “Toroid,” has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

Each year the Pushcart Prize honors the best of the independent presses, and in spite of the commercialization and commoditization of publishing, the Pushcart has survived and thrived since 1976, supporting the stories that sustain us through small, independent presses.

In the words of Bill Henderson, Publisher and Editor of the Pushcart Prize Series, “Spirit will never be quelled, certainly not by big bucks and bluster. Each edition of the Pushcart Prize is evidence of this. Many new presses and dozens of new authors emerge annually and are honored in classrooms, bookstores and libraries around the world. And so the Pushcart Prize has been renewed since our first edition in 1976. We celebrate this renewal every year. This is our joy.”

I am tiddley-wink proud to be part of this legacy of wholeheartedness, truth and beauty in a world that so desperately needs it. As I tell my students more often than they want to hear, storytelling is a superpower!

“Toroid” was published in the September 2015 issue of Pithead Chapel, Volume 4, Issue 9. You can read it here.

Wish me luck!

 

“Toroid” Now Live and Online at Pithead Chapel

I’m thrilled that “Toroid” is now live and online at Pithead Chapel!  I could not imagine a better home for “Toroid” than Pithead Chapel, which publishes “gutsy narratives…[that] leave a brilliant bruise.”

“Toroid” holds a special place in my heart, in part because it’s an homage to those ancient emperors in spirit, of which my father was one, who create wormholes in the universe. My father was not a mathematician like the one in the story, but he was a poet – a bit cracked, shades of a tyrant, yet someone who scoured his soul in the pursuit of truth and beauty.

“Toroid” has earned its own category in my mind, if only because I’ve been writing and revising this story for five years. You heard it, folks, five blimey years (“blimey: a minced oath from [God] blind me”Wicktionary). Even a real, live baby only takes nine months. Over the years the story expanded and contracted, shape shifting and boiling itself down into the condensation you find here. Enjoy!