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The long and the short about "The Long and the short:"
Entering any story for the first time is like walking through a doorway into a place you never knew existed. No matter its length, the world of the short story when done right provides a traveler with a visit that feels too short, though is really just right.
Inside this book you'll visit old farms, suburban homes, laboratories of the future, familiar neighborhoods just like the one where your funny aunt lives.You'll walk the hot fields of the deep south, frozen cabins in the far north, the war-torn deserts of Iraq and the cool
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
The long and the short about "The Long and the short:"

Entering any story for the first time is like walking through a doorway into a place you never knew existed. No matter its length, the world of the short story when done right provides a traveler with a visit that feels too short, though is really just right.

Inside this book you'll visit old farms, suburban homes, laboratories of the future, familiar neighborhoods just like the one where your funny aunt lives.You'll walk the hot fields of the deep south, frozen cabins in the far north, the war-torn deserts of Iraq and the cool shadows of Venice. If you're going to take short trips, why repeat locales?

Here are a few doors:

Then It Was:
"He didn't die, he said."
"What do you mean he didn't die?"

In Defense of Mom:
"I never thought it was an accident, although it's true the brakes weren't really all that good."

The Homecoming of Cousin Charlie:
The afternoon crackled with bastards and bitches.

Waltz by Cricket, Song of Knave:
While the white big moon smiles in a blue blue night, and a cricket on the brickwork sings and plays, and so on and so on, Candace naked on the balcony combs her pubic hair with a tortoise shell comb.

Surah's Well:
Corsey'd been the one who'd asked, "What you think a raghead thinks right when you shoot him?"

The Aliens Will Win:
It begins simply enough. Tomatoes start coming through the ceiling, armed with electric arrows that shoot out of their hands.

An End to End All Ends:
I had repaired to my cabin on Kootenay Lake to get apart from everyone, from all the fuss, for I had been so unfortunate as to win a Nobel.


Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.

Autorenporträt
My books are my signature. But this is only how I feel. Others often differ in opinion, which is right and good. For them, here then, be some stuff maybe useful in some fashion I can't fathom.

Biographical data

Born: Spring Lake, North Carolina, April, 1953, fourth day, five minutes past midnight (thus late for my parents' anniversary, which sets a standard for all such events from then on.)

Educated: a long while back, when colleges offered to improve human beings attending their classes, not dedicate themselves to the function of making a person employable. Ahh, the good old days.
Undergraduate degree: In English from a State college in Glassboro, NJ, that changed its name to Rowan University when Mr. Rowan gave it a huge wad of cash.

Master degree: In English from Temple University in 1996, which is where I got to learn exactly what I needed to know from David H. Bradley, the author of a fine book, "The Chaneysville Incident" *among others) which I recommend reading. Otherwise, graduate school for writers is a waste of time and money.

Marriage: I married to the finest woman on Earth, by accounts of many others more than myself: Manuela.
I married once before, but for practice. It lasted a mere sixteen months.
Manuela brought with her two wonderful young ladies, Elizabeth (Baby Beth) and Manuela (Meme), who each in turn delivered into my life young ladies of inestimable worth: Sky (b. 2003) Lucy (b. 2007) and Mia (b. 2008.) Though I give to each huge chunks of my heart, doing so has increased that heart's size.

Work History: Let's say I worked, and have enjoyed no occupation more than Educator. My students put their trust in me; I put my faith in them. Pretty much always works out.

What I do for fun: Everything. If it is not fun, I quickly stop doing it. (see Work, above)

Writing Philosophy: Make sense by appealing to the senses.