Listen here to Gallant Gulls, Episode 55 of Catunquit Chronicles, for which your intrepid scribe was invited by hosts James Allan and Ashland Comorack to drop by for a chat and to read some of my short stories for their podcast. I am very thankful for the chance since it was a joy to talk about writing with people who appreciate it and do a fair amount of it themselves.
Happy New Year! And Salutations of the Season!
I do believe you’ll want to get a hold of The Book of Norman, my collection of 18 connected short stories, either for yourself or to give to someone else at this time of year, or both.
Found on You Tube: At the End of the Millennium Video
Lo and Behold: Believe me, I was drifting, off the mooring entirely. Didn't want to work. So, just for laughs, I searched my name, and lo and behold, this video came up.
Everybody at the club is talking about it: The Book of Norman
Everybody at the Club is talking about it! The Book of Norman, Wayne Cresser's new collection of short stories, which is for sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Lulu and Kobo now.
Publishing News: The Book of Norman
"A comedic universe awaits in the stories of Wayne Cresser’s The Book of Norman, a landscape that revolves around his Everyman protagonist, Norman Winters, suffering the relatable slings and arrows prevalent in a world of prevaricators, weirdos, and bullies so you don’t have to." Now available at Amazon, Barnes. Lulu amd Kobo.
From the Flash Stash IV: Story Board
As he said this, he began removing what appeared to be crumpled homemade flyers from my hands. They advertised Italian lessons at home and outboard motors for sale, charity 5ks and flower shows. And I held them in tightly clenched fists, like a crabby schoolteacher who snatches paper airplanes out of mid-air.
From the Flash Stash (III) : At the End of the Millennium (originally published in Open: Journal of Arts & Letters)
Surely, they are castaways now and although I cannot see them, I hear them chattering when I put my ear to the sea.
Flash Stash II: From the Files of August Strindberg: Stockholm, February, 1875
But tell me, did I not suffer a vision, that is to say, see something dreadful at my door?
From the Flash Stash: I Have to Quit Commuting! (redux)
I dream that I forget in which direction I am headed. The road splits. I panic and take an exit unknown to me. It doesn’t make any difference.
Possible Wildlife (redux)
So, in the spirit of establishing a courteous process going forward and to avoid confusion, I...
