Each month has a quote from my writing to try and coax you into buying my books. Someday this strategy might work.
Everyone thought it would be the bomb or the climate or a wayward meteor. Others thought it would disease or bad food. Still others thought prophets and demons would come for us. But Jason knew the truth. He knew how civilization would end…if it ever existed.
What Is This? Some say life’s a path winding through a forest of endless possibilities. Well…we’ll see. In the meantime, Crazy Man and the dog, Sidestepper, will be following that path through the deep dark scary woods every Tuesday and Thursday in a twice weekly saga of their journey.
And who are Crazy Man and the dog, Sidestepper? I’m not sure. I’m still learning. Crazy Man was under his bed with an empty bottle of wine for a long time before he decided to look into “this outside thing.” His body exists in one dimension and his mind in another and he’s never been sure which is which. Once on the path, the past begins to slip away and he can’t remember if he has a kitchen or not. Or a garage.
The dog, Sidestepper, is looking for the mother who abandoned him when he was a puppy, causing his body to stay the same size and his legs to grow into long skinny stilts that make him look strangely like an egret nest perched on top of power lines. But don’t think about that…you’ll dream. It won’t be nice. And he walks sideways. Always. After a short confrontational greeting during which Crazy Man assures the dog, Sidestepper, that he’s not his mother, the two decide to travel together down the path of adventure and new meanings through the deep dark scary woods.
What awaits them will change their already weird lives into…well…something weirder. You’re welcome to join them on their journey every Wednesday but, be warned, nothing good can come of this.
5 out of 5
“There’s a lot of crap out there, and shit falls out of the sky, but not on me. I’m the source of my own crap and people respect me for that. I’m like the faucet I can’t turn off. Wordsworth’s spontaneous overflow without the meter. I’m a damn flood.”
This quote, the second paragraph in Biff Mitchell’s collection of short stories, could perhaps be taken as a summary of the book as a whole. I don’t mean to suggest that Blowing Up is crap – quite the opposite – but this bit captures the author’s fluency of expression as well as his penchant for self-denigration. His stories are simultaneously shocking and funny, literate and profane, a riot of cynical creativity brightened by occasional flashes of compassionate insight.
I chose to review this book because I know it’s difficult to find readers for short fiction. I didn’t have any expectations, which is fortunate, because this volume would have violated them – whatever they were. Blowing Up doesn’t fit well into any category. A mixture of satire and science fiction, spiritual pondering and scatological polemics, the book is utterly original.
Review by Lisabet Sarai, Goodreads Reviewer (Blog: Beyond Romance)
These are novels, short fiction and a book on how to write novels.
I write mostly cyberpunk, magical realism and humor.
Everything else was written by another Biff.
I have reviews for some of them here (click the titles to download the reviews):
Shown above is the cover of one of the Boston Jonson cyber mysteries...Murder by Coffee.
Selling a book or a board is a cool way to have your art appreciated, but when that appreciation comes from another artist, especially one of Jennifer’s stature, then you know you’re not wasting your time with those books, those drawings, those photographs.
Thank you, Jenn…I feel both humbled and proud.
The video interview at Cafe Loka was shot by my bestie, Stephanie Durelle, under gruelling circumstances…I wouldn’t stay still.
Biff Mitchell lives in a hovel at the edge of the world. He has no life. He has no friends. Neighborhood children throw stones at his hovel. At night, Biff throws stones at his hovel.
Someday Biff plans to write a book about a man who lives in a house that is stoned daily by neighborhood children who—through some magical twist of events—turn into snowmen.
When Spring arrives, the man’s house melts.
I write speculative fiction and have been successful in tricking publishers and editors into publishing just about everything I've written.
I do mindless drawings with black gel ink and have tricked a few people into buying them. (Black Gel Drawings)
I take pictures of nature and people. When I take pictures of people, I'm actually capturing their souls, which I sell on eBay. (Photography Website)
Every atom of water, fire, earth and wind.