We, well, we and the Sarah Gallien, are Madore's Corner.

So true, we have podcasted with the Madore as part of his new series Madore's Corner, and said interview has been merged with one that the Madore did with the terrific Sarah Gallien and the result is Episode Two: Sarah Gallien Didn't Take a Gender Studies Class & Ben Tanzer Talks to the River, sure to change lives, we think, and hope, though regardless, we are thankful, big thankful for the opportunity to talk, and then talk some more.

New joint. Ain't No Reason. Binghamton story. Full of Crow.

Quite happy we are to have a new piece Ain't No Reason in the new edition of Full of Crow, the final version of which was highly influenced by the repetitious ebb and flow of the fabulous noir novel Beautiful Piece by Joseph G. Peterson. We are also happy to share that this is the final Binghamton story to find a home in the group of stories we wrote following and in reaction to discussing the stories in Repetition Patterns, and yes we know this is a lot of repetition, during the Repetition Patterns blog tour. Those stories include among others, Goddess at Annalemma and Never Said at Girls with Insurance. Big thanks to the crew at Full of Crow and for your reading pleasure a brief excerpt below.

"I am in bed and staring at the ceiling as I always do at bedtime. I am not sleeping and I am never going to be sleeping. I am thinking about the endless things that keep me up at night, school, war, my looks, sex, being cool and my parents’ voices that I can always hear drifting up the stairs as they talk, and talk, long into the night.

I am on the little league field down by MacArthur where I go to elementary school, and it’s hot, upstate New York hot, all humid and moist, the air thick and full of gnats, endless gnats getting in my ears and nose, flying around my face, and sticking to my forehead when they get too close and their wings no longer work."

We have new piece. "More Than Anything" is up at the Necessary Fiction and we are most appreciative.

We are quite thrilled and most appreciative to have a new piece up at the Necessary Fiction. It is titled More Than Anything and it is part of a group of quasi-interlocking stories we worked on last summer which also include Goddess at Annalemma, So Different Now at Dogzplot, That's It at CellStories and Never Said at Girls With Insurance. We would add that Spider-Man makes a brief appearance in this piece, well, the idea of Spider-Man anyway, and that for your reading pleasure we have pasted a brief excerpt below.

“So,” she says smiling, “do you think this guy is stalking you or what?”

They are going out to lunch together. She is the intern. She is young and vibrant, if a little weird and awkward, with her interest in graphic novels, Spider-Man, and him, all things he is interested in as well.

He normally makes it a point to avoid the younger employees, especially the female ones.

He wants to get to work, get what needs to be done, done, and then get home to his wife, and his real life.

Because that’s the thing, like Spider-Man he lives in two worlds, and his real life has little to do with work or who he is at work."

New piece. Never Said. Girls With Insurance. Nice.

Yes, quite geeked we are. We have a new piece up at the Girls with Insurance titled Never Said and it is part of the recent group of stories written by TBWCYL, Inc. spokesperson Ben Tanzer following and inspired by the Repetition Patterns virtual book tour. Some of the stories from the group already published include Goddess at Annalemma, That's It at CellStories and So Different Now at Dogzplot. We want to thank P.H. Madore and the crew at Girls with Insurance for running with this one and for your reading pleasure, please enjoy a brief excerpt below.

"We’re at the Park Diner. My dad Tommie is sitting across from me. He looks haggard, tired. His skin is pasty and washed-out. He’s not talking, so I’m not talking either, but it doesn’t matter because it’s hanging there between us.

Cancer.

Motherfucker.

“Don’t look so upset kid,” my dad finally says, “it’s going to be fine.”

I look away so he won’t notice that I’m crying and I see the painting of Icarus across the room. The painting has been there forever which means that Icarus has been falling forever as well, no respite in sight.

“What’s next?” I ask.

“I could go home and die,” my dad says, “one doctor already suggested that, or I can try this new experimental trial they are starting at Lourdes.”

I don’t say anything.

“Look bud, I’m past normal shit, its experimental or its nothing, but there’s this hot shot doctor that just moved here and he’s bringing the trial with him.”

I’m still at a loss, how am I supposed to react to something like this, especially since I have spent a significant chunk of my life hating him and hoping he would die."