Below, you will find an unabridged copy of a complaint that I sent to Delta Airlines after a recent flight from Atlanta to San Diego (I’ve added some formatting for readability, formatting that was unavailable on the Delta complaint form). Consider this my open letter to the airline industry, in response to its practice of taking choice out of its customers hands.
From “A Bower in the Arsacides,” a late chapter in Herman Mellville’s Moby Dick:
The skeleton dimensions I shall now proceed to set down are copied verbatim from my right arm, where I had them tattooed; as in my wild wanderings at that period, there was no other secure way of preserving such valuable statistics. But as I was crowded for space, and wished the other parts of my body to remain a blank page for a poem I was then composing–at least, what untattooed parts might remain–I did not trouble myself with the odd inches; nor, indeed, should inches at all enter into a congenial admeasurement of the whale.
A short-short of mine, better termed flash fiction, was published today in WhiskeyPaper. If you care to read it, I’d love to hear what you think:
I do hope you enjoy reading this piece. A special shout to Lessa Cross-Smith and Loran Smith for working with me to get this story out into the world.
P.S. Stay tuned to some upcoming publications, including my inclusion in the upcoming print issue of pacificREVIEW, and short fiction in Timber Journal and Lunch Ticket.
I’m pleased to share my most recent publication, a peculiar piece of micro-fiction written quite a while ago. It is nice to see it find a home at Cheap Pop, a little micro-fiction rag that has generated quite the buzz in just a short time.
I do hope you enjoy reading this piece.
P.S. Stay tuned for some of my upcoming publications, including pacificREVIEW, WhiskeyPaper, Lunch Ticket and Timber Journal.
I do hope you enjoy reading this piece. I know I will enjoy reading the rest of this issue–if editor Michael Dwayne Smith’s foreword is any indication, Mojave River Review will be full of the good, weird, heartbreaking stuff that always makes me sing.
P.S. Stay tuned to some upcoming publications, including my inclusion in the upcoming print issue of pacificREVIEW.
I love you.
Some of my friends, family and fellow readers have been asking, so here goes. I have a few publications upcoming in early 2014, namely:
- CHEAP POP (March 13) — “Two Thousand Miles Running”
- WhiskeyPaper (March 31) — “Up to St. Paul”
- Mojave River Review (TBD) — “Barracuda Lagoon”
All flash fiction (approximately 500-1500 words) here. I dig flash, immensely. I also really, really dig what CHEAP POP and WhiskeyPaper are doing, including the continued innovation of their talented editors (Robert James Russell+Elizabeth Schmuhl and Leesa Cross-Smith+Loran Smith, respectively); and I certainly look forward to being part of what Mojave River Review has in store (for example, their press-end will release a fiction collection by Leesa Cross-Smith and a poetry collection by Daniel Romo later this year).
Stay tuned for more detailed updates, including links, updates to the publications page, a complete overhaul later in the year, and hopefully the addition of more work to share.
My five things are up over at Treehouse Lit Mag.
Originally posted on Treehouse:
from Anthony Martin, author of There in the Countryside Many Miles Away:
Recommended: The Attic
Recommended: The Good Soldier Švejk
Recommended: The Gulag Archipelago
Recommended: Doctor Zhivago
Recommended: The Unbearable Lightness of Being
On we go. I am now a monkey in a treehouse. “There in the Countryside, Many Miles Away” was recently published in Treehouse, Issue 7, Fall 2013.
I am looking forward to reading the other work in this issue and sharing what I like. Maybe you will too.
Below you will find the first short story I ever wrote, which I recently uncovered in my archives. It is from the 5th grade, and it is ridiculous, and I hope you will laugh like I did. I have reprinted it here, unabridged and unadulterated.*
IT CAME FROM PLUTO
by Martin Ceisel
Once there was a boy. His name was Greg. He didn’t really believe in anything. One day when Greg was going out for recess, the new boy came over to him. The new boy said, “Do you believe in aliens from outer space?” “No,” Greg said. “I don’t really believe in anything like that,” Greg said. Greg went out to recess. He played football and he scored 2 touchdowns. Greg’s team won 14-7. When Greg came in from recess, the new boy was waiting at his locker. The new boy asked if he could play football, Greg said yes. Greg went into his classroom. His class was starting math. Greg got his math book out. Greg started the page, and finished the page. He started to read right when the teacher said it was time for spelling.