cigar-tin story #56 ; one of the illustrations for the stories mentioned here. * * * * * Yes, I'm still pissed off. Or perhaps just *more* pissed off. It was just a few days ago that I posted a major bitch parade -- in the form of an open letter -- about a literary journal called The Antigonish Review . Now it seems I'm forced to stomp all over the same old ground, only this time it's about a literary journal called Grain . Like The Antigonish Review (or TAR, as it's coloured in my mind), it really doesn't matter what I send to Grain. They are never going to publish it. Full stop. Stories about growing up on the prairies, about small towns and their characters, stories about youth and arrogance, about doomed relationships, coming-of-age age stories, life-affirming stories, dark-hole stories of nihilism and despair, magical fucking realism ... all of this is just inconvenient noise to the editors at Grain. Christ how I've tried. I could send them bubble e
Draw things, paint things, write things, make things.