ARTISTRY IN ONE ARENA DOES not always guarantee artistry in another. “My proposal is a simple one,” the young man said. “Grant your endorsement, in a few choice words, of my latest cookbook, New Tastes of Pormaris. It is a…
Category: Writing
My own serious stuff; the craft itself; those who inspire me in it; the art of reading.
Prosatio Silban and the Free Lunch
IF SOMETHING COMES FROM NOTHING, is it worth the price? Prosatio Silban sighed, and not for the first time that day. How did I come to this? he asked himself. I used to be more thrifty with my pantry and…
Ozone; or, The Horror Upstairs
WHEN A MAN HAS GIVEN his life to science, even to the naked edge of that science, he is expected to be vocal about it. And if others choose not to listen, well … perhaps they won’t have the nightmares,…
Stellar Blues
do the stars know the names by which we call them? we, the hubristic and temporary, label the unthinkably ancient with quick mouth sounds and fading pen-scratches. will they mourn when we are gone? would they say: “nice try, two-legs;…
Prosatio Silban and the Proxy Diner
SOMETIMES, “HUNGER” IS JUST ANOTHER word for “desperation.” Prosatio Silban heaved a sigh and pondered his bleak future. How does this keep happening? he asked himself. How do my circumstances seem to always drop so low? To be fair, it…
For Franz Kafka
THE OLD WOMAN SAT, SOFTLY singing, on a blue wooden chair in the vast cobbled square, rippling a carpet of birds with each cast of her seedful hand. Tall jagged buildings loomed on all four sides — blocky and black-windowed,…
Act of Greed
“THANK YOU FOR CALLING Total Auto, may I help you?” “Yes, my car was swept away in the recent floods, and I would like to file a claim.” “I’m sorry sir, but flood coverage isn’t included in any of our…
A Farewell to Mars
On and for the 54th anniversary of “Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.” AS HE DANGLED FROM THE upper corner of the window before my typewriter, inverted and scowling, I first saw the Man from Mars. His identity was…
Prosatio Silban and The Public Discourse
IT BEGAN, AS SO MANY good tales do, at Pelvhi’s Chopping-House. But it didn’t end there. That bustling asylum for epicurean Pormaris’ vast and varied army of hospitality workers was especially busy for a night in the stormy Season of…
Too Bad
“WE PASSED THROUGH SEVERAL HUNDRED media-transmission shells on our way in,” the communications officer said. “Of course, we were eager to see who had made them.” By the pale light of a flickering viewscreen, the captain’s expression was thoughtful. “I…
Prosatio Silban and the Avid Inspector
WE ALL HAVE THOSE DAYS when everything goes wrong – but not always do we have someone looking over our shoulder while it does. Prosatio Silban stifled an exasperated sigh. Mustn’t show my impatience, either with her or my circumstances,…
Prosatio Silban and the Minor Plague
SOMETIMES, A SMALL MALADY CAN be a big problem. Prosatio Silban groaned, sat up in his sleeping-berth, and put his head in his hands. If these hiccoughs don’t (hic) end soon, he thought, I will.