They Once Had Horses

 I have been away a long time. Another away, another long time. You may have wondered what ridiculous thing I'm doing now. Family, teaching, holding it together, hoping and working for some kind of breakthrough in what (I am afraid) seems like a historical and/or maybe epistemological human wrongness.

But I'm still scratching things in walls, putting ink to paper, mind to puzzles, notes to birds.

I wanted to let you know, mom, that the last real movie I acted in is streaming RIGHT NOW from the El Paso Film Festival. "They Once Had Horses" is a western-horror short film made by one of my longtime hard-road buddies, Edward Lucky McKee. The movie falls under my personal favorite genre, the dark and funny and strange buddy movie (producers, again I remind you, like screaming into a black hole: I have a pile of specs, you dingbats, get in before the bidding starts (or don't, wait for the bidding, actually (start the bidding, please, I'm begging you))). The movie is sweet and stylish. A kind of departure. The process was a thrill not only because of the smart material and direction, but also because I got to act opposite one of my favorite performers, the truly talented Sean Mackenzie Bridgers (Deadwood, Get Shorty). We filmed "They Once Had Horses" with a tight local crew of friends in an actual desolate canyon east of El Paso.

And we have more good news. "They Once Had Horses" is part of the Deathcember film anthology, which is coming to you this year. Shout Factory / Scream Factory will release the film on all major digital platforms on November 24, 2020, and then on cable on demand on December 1. The fun, strange Deathcember is an advent horror anthology, 24 short films, 24 doors to hell. Thus, pure documentary street realism for the 21st century. 

There are some other things. I signed an option for one of the old screenplays, but who knows how such things play out. The novel's still looking for a wise friend and has since kind of become the world, a long arc of my work. A few short stories are circulating. My focus today as a teacher (facilitator really, when it works) is on other writers, other readers, the world, the worlds. Reading, listening, learning. But I hope to keep creating where and when the work matters.

More than anything I wish the world wasn't on fire. And that is on us. 

I love you. Thank you.