Musings from the basement...

MUSIC: Jeff Mangum, Paramount Theater, Asbury Park, Oct. 3, 2011

Thirteen years ago, Jeff Mangum and his band, Neutral Milk Hotel, released In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, quietly one of the most powerful albums of the last 20 years. A year later, he walked away from the music business and disappeared. In the 12 years since Neutral Milk Hotel went on hiatus, he has rarely done interviews. In one revealing interview, he alluded to a nervous breakdown and talked about how emotionally draining his music could be. All this time, though, fans — myself included — have waited and waited and waited to just hear some damn music. Not because we feel we’re owed, but because few musicians have been able to tap into a subconscious mess of pain and hurt and dream images…
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Year of Hitchcock softcover = RELEASED

I know, I know, you’re probably as sick of hearing about this book as I am of posting about it! But the long-awaited softcover edition of the book I coauthored with Jim McDevitt is finally out and ready for purchase. If you passed on the hardcover — and no hard feelings if you did, because it wasn’t cheap — this is for you. It comes in at under 20 clams. Nice price for a nice book by some nice guys, yeah? So check it out and I’ll finally shut up about it. Not about my other projects, mind you. But about this one, sure. For now. You can order it from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Books-a-Million, and other fine retailers. It should soon start showing…
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Complaining about things I shouldn’t complain about, aka Writing can be boring

Leaning forward with a glass of bourbon and ice next to me, hair frazzled. A human drama plays itself out in the background, all loud voices and chaos, but I can’t pay attention because I’m under the spell of inspiration, and as those words hit the page each sparkles like a shiny gold coin. Each sentence is a hundred dollar bill constructed with the power of my words. The keyboard is on fire with the rush of my work. It’s invigorating. Nah. The above scene is bullshit. Writing for pay is not always interesting. In fact, sometimes it’s downright boring. Hell, it usually is. I can still remember a time when that thought would have seemed preposterous. Get paid to write? Like, money and stuff?…
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FICTION: Storms

As I blogged previously, this story first appeared in Boston Literary Magazine. Now you can read it here. It’s called Storms, and like a piece I’ll be posting on Halloween called The Symphony, it’s about war. I don’t know why I have two flash fiction pieces about war, but I do. I had just got done reading Cormac McCarthy’s brilliant The Road, and wanted to see if I could steal elements of its style and make them my own, purely to challenge myself. This is the result. Enjoy. (This also appears in a previously mentioned but as yet unpublished collection of short fiction I’ve put together.) STORMS By Eric San Juan A week in a trench. Mud. Every little while a machine gun barked. Chattering…
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Do Golden Age sci-fi authors still matter?

Science fiction is great, a genre associated with lasers and spaceships by the general populace but which historically has done a remarkable job of exploring big questions about who we are, why we’re here, and what we can accomplish as a species. The “science” part of the equation can be pesky, though. As our scientific understanding of the universe advances, stories that once seemed rooted in a potential reality — say, the existence of intelligent life elsewhere in our solar system — can now seem dated, quaint, or downright silly. So with that in mind, this blog post poses an interesting question: Are ‘Golden Age’ stories too dated and is it worth it to recommend Heinlein, Asimov, etc. to the new SF reader? The answer…
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