the combined manuscript has reached 125k words. It's actually going to become four parts as I'm not even close to completion. instead of vignette story snap shots in time, I'm just telling the entire story.
In writing news. I’ve split the story collection into three parts along the main arcs of the narrative.
The third part isn’t a story collection. It’s a novel.
Not sure if parts one and two will remain vignette style or become novels as well.
I’m still writing the drafts
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In writing news. I’ve split the story collection into three parts along the main arcs of the narrative.
The third part isn’t a story collection. It’s a novel.
Not sure if parts one and two will remain vignette style or become novels as well.
I’m still writing the drafts
The third part isn’t a story collection. It’s a novel.
Not sure if parts one and two will remain vignette style or become novels as well.
I’m still writing the drafts
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Moran Press retweeted
Many thanks to @TheDarkestStar_ for indulging my love of Lorca & new wave
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Moran Press retweeted
Thank you @MoonflakePress for sharing my reflections on being a mom ❤️
Hold On" by @johannahcanwrite
Read more in our 11th online issue, Treasured.
moonflakepress.com/treasured
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Moran Press retweeted
It’s such a huge honor to have this work in Queer-Poem-a-Day! Thanks so much, Mickie and Josh and thank you, Hyacinth Review and Terri for first publishing it. Be sure to sign up for Queer Poem-a-Day newsletter! queerpoems.com/p/interrupta-t…
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The manuscript has reached 118k words. It takes a long time to even scroll through it all now. I'll have to break it into pieces quite soon.
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Moran Press retweeted
"...I reflect on the language I share
with another, of syllables and metaphors
traded, some of them wounded, leaking.
How long has it been since someone’s language
harbored deeply in my marrow?"
in "The language..." by Janette Schafer, at The Lit Under
theliteraryunderground.org/blog/2026/11/0…
with another, of syllables and metaphors
traded, some of them wounded, leaking.
How long has it been since someone’s language
harbored deeply in my marrow?"
in "The language..." by Janette Schafer, at The Lit Under
theliteraryunderground.org/blog/2026/11/0…
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Moran Press retweeted
He’s so photogenic but check the comments for a picture of him without his hat, he’s so angry.
I’m hoping by the weekend I’ll be able to make another one.
I’m hoping by the weekend I’ll be able to make another one.
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Moran Press retweeted
"Grandmother says blindness is not absence:
it is orientation.
She says every field requires surveillance.
She says the soil remembers
what we try to bury in it."
in "Psalm for the Glaucoma Witch..." by David Anson Lee, in Cul-de-sac of Blood
culdesacofblood.com/david-anson-lee
it is orientation.
She says every field requires surveillance.
She says the soil remembers
what we try to bury in it."
in "Psalm for the Glaucoma Witch..." by David Anson Lee, in Cul-de-sac of Blood
culdesacofblood.com/david-anson-lee
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Moran Press retweeted
My poem, The Plunge, is live on @Spill_Words today! Check it out and click the little ❤️ if you like it! I appreciate it!! 😄
#amwriting #poetry #autumn #fall #inlove #plunge
spillwords.com/the-plunge/
#amwriting #poetry #autumn #fall #inlove #plunge
spillwords.com/the-plunge/
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Moran Press retweeted
I heard the devil and wokeness are back, so here are some 1-star reviews for a multicultural novel full of BIPOC and LGBTQ+ characters, syncretism, Spanglish, magic, narcos, a critique of our healthcare system, and racists getting their teeth knocked out.
amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B09N5R…
amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B09N5R…
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Moran Press retweeted
It's finally here!
I'm very honoured to be a part of this new @larotondereview anthology, and I'm grateful to @TheDarkestStar_, who has truly done a wonderful job.
Can't wait to read the rest of the poems!
I'm very honoured to be a part of this new @larotondereview anthology, and I'm grateful to @TheDarkestStar_, who has truly done a wonderful job.
Can't wait to read the rest of the poems!
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Moran Press retweeted
Publication Day! My Crime fiction debut Tales from Terrebonne is now available courtesy of Rock and a Hard Place Press! Can’t thank you all enough for the amazing support!! Shoutout to @RobSmith3, @VictorDeAnda, @SuzJay11 & @KellieScottReed!
rockandahardplacemag.com/tales-from-ter…
rockandahardplacemag.com/tales-from-ter…
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the manuscript has reached 111k words. No, I can't really believe it. and there's no stopping or end in sight. I'm just going to keep writing until the music stops.
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Moran Press retweeted
If you’re working on a poetry or memoir manuscript and are including epigraphs, quotes, or song lyrics, please read this! It’s important to know the process, how expensive it is, and common misconceptions.
krisbigalk.substack.com/p/epigraphs-so…
krisbigalk.substack.com/p/epigraphs-so…
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Moran Press retweeted
Feedback from a Dead Man
by Kenneth M. Gray / @KennethMGRAY2
.
The first attendee for my new writers' workshop showed up. "Come in, you're the first to arrive."
"I'm Darla,” she said, and walked past my desk. "What a cool old typewriter. Is this what you write on?"
"Don't touch that!"
She tapped the space bar.
"Fuck me."
She made a face and said, "Sorry. My bad."
The room chilled.
"And who's this gorgeous doll? Way out of your league, Murkle. What is she, a hooker or am I interrupting a kidnapping?"
"Not now." I jerked my head toward the kitchen, signaling Chuck to meet me there. "What will it take for you to go back in the typewriter for a few hours? I'll leave Euphoria on all night. Change your typewriter ribbon. Name it.”
Chuck took a long pull on his cigarette and said, "Nah, I wouldn't miss whatever this is for a million bucks."
"I thought you said you lived alone?" Darla shouted from the living room.
"I do. I was asking Alexa to play some music. Alexa, shuffle pop songs."
"I don't think so. Alexa, play Sinatra," Chuck said.
Fly Me to the Moon started playing.
"How did you do that?"
"One of my many spooky powers, Murkle. Fun fact. I can interact with the living world. See, hear, occasionally touch, but not smell it. Weird right? But don't worry, I can still hear your Big Mac farts when you sleep."
"Wait. You watch me sleep?"
"Maybe."
I left that hanging, went to answer the door, and let the rest of my class in.
Darla told everyone, "Don't touch his typewriter. He's totally anal about it."
I set everybody up in my living room. "Welcome to Murkle's Manuscript Masterclass."
"Masterclass? Don't tell me they're paying for this. This has to be illegal, Murkle."
"I need to find a good exorcist." Shit, I said that out loud.
I ignored the group’s puzzled looks. "Let’s introduce ourselves. I'll start. I'm an award-winning author—"
"Dunkin Donuts' customer of the month doesn't count, Murkle."
I sighed and kept going, "My Tank Bronson screenplay is currently making the rounds."
Chuck laughed. "Yeah, circling round the toilet bowl. Even my edits couldn't save that turd."
"Okay, let's start on the left and tell us what you will be reading tonight."
"Hello, I'm Susan, and I'll be reading from my YA Supernatural-Romance-Murder Mystery-Time Travel novel: The Tenth Time My Cat Died.”
Chuck coughed. "Jeez, lady, pick a lane."
"Hi, Todd here. I would like to read an excerpt from my kickass sword and sorcery trilogy: Zzarloock and the Dragons of ÜÜlargblastan’n."
Chuck did a whiskey spit take. "What? This drip never met a consonant he didn’t like."
Darla curtsied and said, "My piece will be from my WIP: Fifty Shades of Ent. My sexy-erotic-romantic fantasy."
"Sexy and erotic? Wow, beauty and—well, beauty." Chuck cleared his throat and said in a condescending voice, "Hi, I'm Charles Wangford, and I'll be reading from Slow Death by Murkle."
"Not now!"
"What?" everyone asked.
"Nothing. Uh, Alexa…not now. Please continue."
"They call me Janice. I'm gonna read from my ongoing Substack series Lesbian Biker Chicks Stomp a Mudhole in a Nazi."
I felt Chuck's cold, dead breath on my ear. "I'd read that."
I shivered. "That was creepy as fuck."
"What?! Fuck you, man. I could tell you were a woman-hating, squeaky little homophobe the minute I met you."
Chuck chuckled. "She's got your number."
"What? No. I wasn't talking about your story."
"What then?"
"Um… I… um… fuck!"
"Fuck you too, man!" she said and stormed out, followed by the rest of the class.
"Well, that went well," Chuck said, and took a swig of whiskey.
"Damn it. Chuck, I needed that money."
"Look at the bright side, Murkle. Now you know there are four writers out there worse than you."
"Fuck me."
"Look, 'They Call Me Janice' left behind Biker Chicks. Let's go to bed, and you can read it to me. You think it has illustrations?"
"Yeah, right," I said, and went to my bedroom with the manuscript and locked the door.
Chuck appeared on my bed. "Like that was gonna keep me out."
He waggled his eyebrows and patted the bed. "Come on, Murkle, you know you want to read it."
"Creepy. As. Fuck." I said.
.
Stay tuned for more Critiques From a Dead Man, coming soon!
by Kenneth M. Gray / @KennethMGRAY2
.
The first attendee for my new writers' workshop showed up. "Come in, you're the first to arrive."
"I'm Darla,” she said, and walked past my desk. "What a cool old typewriter. Is this what you write on?"
"Don't touch that!"
She tapped the space bar.
"Fuck me."
She made a face and said, "Sorry. My bad."
The room chilled.
"And who's this gorgeous doll? Way out of your league, Murkle. What is she, a hooker or am I interrupting a kidnapping?"
"Not now." I jerked my head toward the kitchen, signaling Chuck to meet me there. "What will it take for you to go back in the typewriter for a few hours? I'll leave Euphoria on all night. Change your typewriter ribbon. Name it.”
Chuck took a long pull on his cigarette and said, "Nah, I wouldn't miss whatever this is for a million bucks."
"I thought you said you lived alone?" Darla shouted from the living room.
"I do. I was asking Alexa to play some music. Alexa, shuffle pop songs."
"I don't think so. Alexa, play Sinatra," Chuck said.
Fly Me to the Moon started playing.
"How did you do that?"
"One of my many spooky powers, Murkle. Fun fact. I can interact with the living world. See, hear, occasionally touch, but not smell it. Weird right? But don't worry, I can still hear your Big Mac farts when you sleep."
"Wait. You watch me sleep?"
"Maybe."
I left that hanging, went to answer the door, and let the rest of my class in.
Darla told everyone, "Don't touch his typewriter. He's totally anal about it."
I set everybody up in my living room. "Welcome to Murkle's Manuscript Masterclass."
"Masterclass? Don't tell me they're paying for this. This has to be illegal, Murkle."
"I need to find a good exorcist." Shit, I said that out loud.
I ignored the group’s puzzled looks. "Let’s introduce ourselves. I'll start. I'm an award-winning author—"
"Dunkin Donuts' customer of the month doesn't count, Murkle."
I sighed and kept going, "My Tank Bronson screenplay is currently making the rounds."
Chuck laughed. "Yeah, circling round the toilet bowl. Even my edits couldn't save that turd."
"Okay, let's start on the left and tell us what you will be reading tonight."
"Hello, I'm Susan, and I'll be reading from my YA Supernatural-Romance-Murder Mystery-Time Travel novel: The Tenth Time My Cat Died.”
Chuck coughed. "Jeez, lady, pick a lane."
"Hi, Todd here. I would like to read an excerpt from my kickass sword and sorcery trilogy: Zzarloock and the Dragons of ÜÜlargblastan’n."
Chuck did a whiskey spit take. "What? This drip never met a consonant he didn’t like."
Darla curtsied and said, "My piece will be from my WIP: Fifty Shades of Ent. My sexy-erotic-romantic fantasy."
"Sexy and erotic? Wow, beauty and—well, beauty." Chuck cleared his throat and said in a condescending voice, "Hi, I'm Charles Wangford, and I'll be reading from Slow Death by Murkle."
"Not now!"
"What?" everyone asked.
"Nothing. Uh, Alexa…not now. Please continue."
"They call me Janice. I'm gonna read from my ongoing Substack series Lesbian Biker Chicks Stomp a Mudhole in a Nazi."
I felt Chuck's cold, dead breath on my ear. "I'd read that."
I shivered. "That was creepy as fuck."
"What?! Fuck you, man. I could tell you were a woman-hating, squeaky little homophobe the minute I met you."
Chuck chuckled. "She's got your number."
"What? No. I wasn't talking about your story."
"What then?"
"Um… I… um… fuck!"
"Fuck you too, man!" she said and stormed out, followed by the rest of the class.
"Well, that went well," Chuck said, and took a swig of whiskey.
"Damn it. Chuck, I needed that money."
"Look at the bright side, Murkle. Now you know there are four writers out there worse than you."
"Fuck me."
"Look, 'They Call Me Janice' left behind Biker Chicks. Let's go to bed, and you can read it to me. You think it has illustrations?"
"Yeah, right," I said, and went to my bedroom with the manuscript and locked the door.
Chuck appeared on my bed. "Like that was gonna keep me out."
He waggled his eyebrows and patted the bed. "Come on, Murkle, you know you want to read it."
"Creepy. As. Fuck." I said.
.
Stay tuned for more Critiques From a Dead Man, coming soon!
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Moran Press retweeted
"Susurrations in unpeopled amphitheatres. Is this how we elude the invisibility of years?"
Stunning, transcendent hybrid work 'Body Double' by @jpiudik ✨️
Do immerse in this beautiful landscape at @IcefloeP's Dis/enchantment/Anomie/Spectacle series:
Icefloepress.net/2026/11/09/bod…
Stunning, transcendent hybrid work 'Body Double' by @jpiudik ✨️
Do immerse in this beautiful landscape at @IcefloeP's Dis/enchantment/Anomie/Spectacle series:
Icefloepress.net/2026/11/09/bod…
Body Double Image/Text work by @jpiudik published today at our ongoing Dis/enchantment/Anomie/Spectacle Series. A web-installation.
"Shifting light in the dream-museum, Walls have me aloft"
Body Double - A Hybrid Work by Jaclyn Piudik icefloepress.net/2026/11/09/bod…
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