Got to Call It a Super Sunday!

So first off, yes, the Baltimore Ravens won one of the weirder Super Bowls I’ve seen lately,  including a partial stadium blackout early in the second half, which, for an Edgar Allan Poe fan, just has to be right on at least two counts.  Not to mention that it was a good game, with the 49ers fighting to come from behind all the way to about the last minute.  But weird as well, the two head coaches are brothers — and also their sister is married to the local college basketball coach here who, as we should find out tomorrow, may be leading the number one NCAA team in the nation too.

But the basketball was Saturday night with a win against Michigan, the last five minutes of which I caught on TV having just come back from a party in which I and my recorder group had had a Renaissance dance music gig.  No pay, but free eats — and a lot of fun.  And this on a lovely snow-coated evening followed by a bit more snow off and on Sunday, only an inch or so which could be handled without inconvenience (sweeping the sidewalk off with a broom, not even needing a shovel for it) but very lovely.

So Sunday was the day for my presentation at the Bloomington Writers Guild’s First Sundays Reading Series (cf. January 6 and 7), where I batted last after local writers L. E. White and Lisa Kwong who read a speculative novel opening chapter and a group of essays, respectively.  My selection (accompanied with a PG warning for any children in the audience, though the one who was there appeared too wrapped up with hand-held electronics for it to matter) was a fairy tale-based short horror story set in my “Tombs” universe, “River Red,” first published in the Canadian anthology ESCAPE CLAUSE (Ink Oink Art, Inc., 2009) and to re-appear in May in THE TEARS OF ISIS (cf. January 2, etc.), which several people went out of their way to tell me afterward that they enjoyed.

Then, checking email after the football (the game having started just long enough after my getting home from the reading for me to get supper started, for eating at half time), I received a PDF copy of the poetry pages from the British Science Fiction Association’s magazine VECTOR (see July 5 2012) including my poem “California Vamp” along with a promise that a print copy will be forthcoming.  “California Vamp” was originally published in VAMPS (A RETROSPECTIVE) and is one of five pieces accepted by Poetry Editor Charles Christian last summer, the others of which may appear in future issues.  But also, I can’t resist quoting from the magazine, “I know I shouldn’t express preferences, but my favorite in this selection is California Vamp by James S. Dorr.  It has that deft touch I mentioned, capturing the poignancy of the protagonist’s plight but without hammering the message home with all the subtlety of a stake being driven home into a vampire’s coffin.”

Who can resist a bit of flattery to end an evening — certainly not I?

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