The story is titled “Those Lonely, Lonely Nights,” and it is published in Issue 9 of Serving House Journal. “Those Lonely, Lonely Nights” is about a conversation with a methamphetamine addict in a bar in Santa Cruz at a time when I was too young to patronize bars. The heart of the piece is derived from staging and ambience. If there’s a deep truth to be plucked from this story, it might have something to do with the ways that our hedonism blinds us, or puts us in harm’s reach. It might also be about a man willing to put himself halfway in danger, but never all the way.
The Serving House Journal is amazing. I’ve been very lucky with some of my publications thus far, and though the Paris Review hasn’t been kicking down my door, journals like Serving House keep finding room to include my work. Not only is this publication showcasing superb contemporary literature, they have an editorial staff whose talent hurts my brain – Duff Brenna, Clare McQueen, and Thomas E. Kennedy (who has work appearing beside mine in Issue 9) to name a few. (Honestly, if you’re reading this Duff, Clare, edit all of my fiction for me forever.)
Serving House Journal endeavors to publish works in the literary and visual arts that will surprise, rivet, amuse, charm, enchant — even electrify— our readers.
Our mission is to play an international role in fostering and preserving the best of what the literary arts are capable of doing: writing that may impel others to become writers themselves; writing that will add to and enhance the dialogue of the arts; writing that reaffirms our belief in the inspiring possibilities of the written word.
We celebrate the imaginative voice, the authentic attitude towards the status quo “world of letters.” We like lean-edgy-elegant writing that takes on the stupefying realities of our challenging times, our thorny relationships, the political chicanery that exhausts our patience, the contraries between men, women, children, and friends.
We’re looking for work that strives to eclipse clichés, stereotypes, and mass-market formulas gleaned from what has become more and more a “reality show,” a “sit-com,” a stultifying Wal-Mart of the mind. “Expect poison from standing water,” William Blake once told us. “The cistern contains; the fountain overflows.”
Inscribe the flow of the world as you see it. Send that world to us. We promise you a fair reading.