A crossroads reveals histories lost to those who would forget them. A golem disobeys its master and chooses to speak. A goblin knight stands taller than the realm. A cat and a scarecrow wander the world over.
I’ve been at work, even if it would appear otherwise.
I’m pretty thrilled to note that I’ll be joining the editorial board for Confluence, my university’s creative writing publication, this fall. It’s my understanding that some print-friendly iteration of Anselm will also be appearing in the 2012-2013 issue, but more on that once it’s a done deal.
I will be making a research trip to southwest Indiana and southeast Illinois in a few weeks to dig up what I can about the life and death of Cyril Shuppert and his wife, Mary, for my creative nonfiction piece they inspired. If it does not culminate in a montage, replete with a shot of me sleeping on a pile of old newspapers with my glasses askew, I will be thoroughly disappointed.
I have also been developing content beneath the trapdoor of cruithear.com, as evidenced by the post in late May. With my attention turning toward graduate schools and Master of Fine Arts programs, the phrase “portfolio requirements” is nipping a little more harshly at my heels. You might expect more proper forays into Calhoun & Dresden in the coming months.
The Iona Peninsula, theatre of the Clove series. A work in progress.
A note for those who haven’t heard: I will be doing a reading at the Three Rivers Food Co-Op at the corner of Sherman and Spring this Friday night at or around 7:30p.m as part of the First Friday Readings series. I will be reading The Ghostwriter, an excerpt from Stir or Cyril (or perhaps both?), and an excerpt from the opening of Calhoun & Dresden. If you’re looking for something to do this Friday evening, come out and have a bit of coffee with me.
A day late, but rabbit rabbit.
Tonight, I will be accepting the MacPhail Scholarship Award for Anselm at the College of Arts and Sciences Awards Banquet on the campus of Indiana University–Purdue University Fort Wayne. Anselm was a multimedia storytelling exhibit hosted by the Continuum Art Gallery of downtown Fort Wayne in the spring of 2011; it tells the origin stories of the titular characters from Calhoun & Dresden. I am tremendously honored (and a little floored) for the recognition, and I hope those who helped make the project possible know how grateful I am for their time and commitment.
The semester is winding down for yours truly, and my partner and I are at last settling in to our new home in a quiet, tree-shaded hamlet on the outskirts of town. Very soon, I will be able to turn my attention away from research papers, author seminars, morphological trees, and all manner of other academic busywork. I expect this summer to be productive in terms of new content for the site, and you are welcome to hold me to that.
As noted previously on cruithear dot com’s Facebook page, if you are experiencing technical difficulties in viewing any content on this site—particularly the in-browser PDFs or download links for stories posted, such as The Ghostwriter or Floodwall—please let us know. As with all SkipLo Studios Inc Web projects, we develop using the Windows 8 Consumer Preview, and the techno-gremlins native to beta operating systems occasionally worm their way in to the coding.
Over and out until the dust has settled. I will see you in time.
Though an interminably busy month of April leaves me with little of substance to report, I can say that a new piece, Stir, will be available for viewing quite soon. Stir is an academic work, written to articulate and examine circular memory.
Work is also underway on Cyril, a creative nonfiction project about the life and death of a distant relative. Foraging for clues about this man is a challenge, but I’m finding it enjoyable thus far. Expect a new division of cruithear dot com when I have something worthwhile to show for it.
Sleep easy, there’s a scent of magnolias on the wind.
For better or worse, willingly or otherwise, cruithear dot com’s Facebook page has been updated to suit the “new” Timeline aesthetic. If you haven’t already, “Like” cruithear dot com on Facebook so you can continue to receive updates as intellectually stimulating as this one.
Good morning, readership.
Though I have little to report, some exciting things are going on behind the scenes at cruithear dot com.
A backdoor Wiki cataloguing utility has been aiding me in transcribing notes from my Moleskin companion into the ether of the internet, and while much of the content will remain tucked away for my eyes only, it will translate into new available content soon enough. Keep pace with updates by checking this news feed often.
A new project is also in the works, tentatively entitled Cyril. It’s a piece of creative nonfiction inspired by the life of my great-great uncle, his career as a boxer and moonshiner in the Prohibition Era, and the circumstances surrounding his death at a young age. Research is slow-going but fascinating, and I’m eager to share my findings with you once they are available.
As a parting note, I’d like to mention a bit of good news regarding SkipLo Studios Inc., the web solutions company that designed and maintains cruithear dot com (and that I co-own, along with my partner in crime): we are officially incorporated and are tremendously excited for the new projects we’ve received. “No rest for the wicked” may quickly become our interim business motto.
Enjoy your green beer, if you’re into that sort of thing.
The frost cover is melting and the grey lifts. It seems like an appropriate time to shed the winter disorder and slip back into the habits you love the most—as appropriate a time as any, at least.
cruithear dot com is the online writing portfolio of Aaron Michael McClaskey. Here, you will find access to completed works—such as Anselm and Floodwall—and larger, ongoing works in progress, such as Calhoun & Dresden and Clove, in addition to other assorted pieces as they are written.
You can contact the author directly through email, connect with the author via Facebook and Twitter, subscribe using your RSS Feed, or simply tie a string around your finger as a reminder to return often.