Kip Manley's Blog, page 59
January 26, 2012
January 16, 2012
January 12, 2012
No. 16: Plenty (Closing)
a Bit of leather
January 11, 2012
No. 16: Plenty (Act IV)
"Laugh, Luff, Love" – Neither of them, or Both – an Other word – his Weaknesses –
January 9, 2012
No. 16: Plenty (Act III)
Tripping over Something in the Dark – Hers also – in the Foyer – he's Washed dishes – old John Barleycorn –
January 8, 2012
No. 16: Plenty
And to spare. "And the floors shall be full of wheat, and the vats shall overflow with wine and oil." 36 pages with color cover. $3.00 plus shipping and handling.
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4:59 becomes 5:00 – Donuts & Leftovers – "I have told Your Grace" – a Most dangerous opponent – He'll come – North it is – "Yeah, so, anyway" – the Nine varieties – "press Seven to delete" – Tripping over Something in the Dark – Hers also – in the Foyer – he's Washed dishes – old John Barleycorn – "Laugh, Luff, Love" – Neither of them, or Both – an Other word – his Weaknesses – a Bit of leather
January 2, 2012
90 scenes 90
The math is ineluctable, as math usually is.
January 1, 2012
The year in roses that was
How it went.
November 18, 2011
The long dark something
Yes, I know. I know. I don't know. I'm working on it. I know. I'll let you know.
In the meanwhile, here's the City of Roses its own dam' self, out on the town:
November 14, 2011
Blog Tour de Troops
Good morning, good evening, whatever greeting's appropriate to whatever time it is wherever you find yourself to be as you're reading this. I'm assuming most of you found your way here from Zoe Saadia's joint, and you'll while away a moment or three before wending off to John Zunski's cabin; from pre-Columbian North America to post-hope Portland to the late, great '80s and '90s: quite a lot of hopping, and from the itinerary it's just a couple of short legs of a long, strange, thoroughly enjoyable tour. —Don't mind me; any of the regulars'll tell you I get like this toward the middle of an episode, with the hair every which way and the eyes red and the empty bottles clanking underfoot. Trouble is, I've been in the middle of this particular episode for a couple of weeks too long already and I still don't even know what the sticking point is so I'll just be over here with the keyboard and the screen and the pieces of paper with the notes scrawled on both sides and the muttering and the occasional yelps and curses and don't mind me. That's best for all concerned.
Leave a comment! Right. Leave a comment on this post right here, today only, say hello, drop me an email address and I'll send you a Smashwords code good for a copy of "Wake up…", which is the collected edition of the first eleven episodes of City of Roses, which, well, is gonzo noirish urban fantasy set very firmly in Portland, Oregon, where sinister riverfront condo developments are fought by a sprawling tea-house constructed from scrap lumber and old windows, and ancient sea-gods retire to close-in Southeast apartments with lovely views, and Jo Maguire, a highly strung, underemployed telemarketer, meets Ysabel, a princess of unspecified pedigree. And, well, things happen. There's sword fights, and a boar hunt in a shopping mall (after hours, of course). There's this bit where a church gets besieged by ghost bicycles. There's also sex and magic and witty banter, the important stuff, adventure, escapism, the ten thousand things, the one true only, you know: "a very English American adventure," someone said, and some other folks have said it's "just another Portland story," it's "utterly captivating," and it's "brilliant."
Anyway: comment, email, coupon, download, read for yourself, do the right thing, support the troops, support the arts, read global, kick local, fight the power, stick it to whatever needs sticking and be sure to get a good night's sleep and a hot breakfast in you before coming back to do it all again, okay?
—Like I said. Don't mind me. Mumbling, yelps, curses, furious typing followed by even more furious deleting. Soon as I figure out what's going on all hell's gonna break loose.
