On exposition

People ask me if there is room in a flash fiction story for exposition.

In skillful hands, exposition might be arousing. However, if you mean "discourse or an example of it designed to convey information or explain what is difficult to understand," then there is little room for that in a flash.

Think a postage stamp. The price and the picture and a bit of glue and nothing else, yet it does carry your thoughts from point A to point B.

Reviews

Bad reviews hurt, even if they are unfair. The Library Journal said about my novel:

"The novel reads more like a family blog and offers few tangible rewards."

Though I had about a dozen other good reviews from the places like People Magazine, Kirkus Review, Booklist, Publishers Weekly, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Washington Post, The Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune and was featured in Ingram's Advance, it still hurts.

I am rejecting

I am rejecting submissions to Vestal Review on Saturday night. Am I that mean?

Happy New Year

I am sweeping the floor and my cat bites the broom. My wife barks commands from the kitchen, but if she really needs me, she would have to make a personal appearance. Twelve guests tonight and I have only eight chairs. Happy New Year.

My book signing today

I drove to B&N in Elmira, about an hour drive. It turned out they arranged a signing without a reading. Huh? They put me at the table there their gift wrapper normally seats and I was mistaken for him. Darn. I thought I was more handsome. So no one came though they made two announcements. The place was full of colorful characters including a woman in unzipped jeans size 36 who asked me to wrap a CD box for her. An hour later, I took my destiny in my own hand and began striking conversations with everyone in the striking distance. As a result, I signed three copies. Not bad under the circumstances though I question the whole idea of book signing. Is it worth time and gas?

My novel in SF Chronicle

Here.

My reading at a book fair

I read at a book fair today in Vestal, NY. A man from the audience stared at me as if I wanted to cheat him out off his life savings. I was afraid he'd ask for my ID to make sure that I am not an impostor trying to sell Mark's books. In the end, he let me go. I have a reading in NY next month. Should I hire a bodyguard?