I just posted my latest work of fiction, the first one in a while. It’s called Ripped to Pieces by a Mob of Adoring Fans, and it’s a story i wrote last year to submit to the second Machine of Death anthology, edited by Ryan North, Matthew Bennardo, and David Malki !, (the first one is excellent, and is available here).
Machine of Death stories all have one thing in common: they tell of people who know the means of their demise, thanks to a wonderful, horrible invention of the possibly-near future.
Anyway, i wrote it super quickly in about two or three hours, and submitted it with minutes to go by the end of the deadline for submissions. It is not too good, but it’s about the only fiction i’ve written in a while, so i posted it here.
They say “write what you know,” so i wrote about underemployment and music. And, naturally, death. But really it’s about selling out, and fame, and self-sabotage, and the creative motivation. Above all, though, it’s murky, hard to read, self-indulgent, and disappointingly uninteresting.
