A little while ago I wrote about my story “Hunted by coyotes,” coming out this January in The New Quarterly. I just finished the final edits on that sucker, with the editorial help of the very wise Pamela Mulloy, and it will be along shortly. I talked on that story at length in the last post, and the difficulties I had getting it done, but I am goddamned glad to see it show up anywhere, let alone a leading literary journal like TNQ.

So here is more hilarious story news that showed up over the last month…

In mid-October I got word that another tale of prairie mayhem would be published by EVENT, another excellent journal out of Douglas College in BC. That story is called “Old Man Marchuk” and it involves an RCMP officer stuck in buttfuck nowhere Alberta, trying to diffuse a volatile situation amongst the locals, after the titular old man goes out a shoots a bunch of guys trying to rob him. It devolves into a sort of standoff between the outnumbered officers stationed there and the old man and his kin, who have blood ties that run deep in that country.

I guess it wont come as a shock to anybody who has read any of my work that this is stolen flat out from a real life thing that happened out there. By god I didn’t always love the prairies when I was stuck out in Edmonton, but I got some great material and learned some things I’d never have known about parts of this massive country and its many regional histories and particulars. This story should be out in the Winter or Spring issue of EVENT, depending where they ultimately decide to situate it.

That was a good deal as is, and then I got another acceptance on November 1st from these folks…

In the quickest turnaround I’ve ever got from a print journal, editor Jane Campbell at PRISM international got a hold of me to let me know that they were going to publish my story “One we could stand to lose” in Issue 52.2, scheduled to come out this February. The edits were finished up early this month. All in all, from submission to completing edits, the whole process took just over six weeks. That is pretty fucking incredible for a print journal, especially one as respected as PRISM. It blew my mind to get that one picked up so quick. I’d likely kill to get that kind of turnaround more often. But, hell, when you get a break like that you gotta take it and say thank you. So yeah, thank you to everyone at PRISM international who helped push that one through. 

To give a brief rundown of it, “One we could stand to lose” is a story about an older fellow who clerks the desk of a historical hotel in his city that has gone to ruin slowly over the decades. The old man holds the place together with a kind of surrogate family in the younger staff and deals with the chaos and curiosities that come up in his day to day as he lives and works at the place. When it comes out I’m sure some folks will posit exactly what spot it was based on, but I’m supposing that there are a bunch of them out there with likewise stories and strange people who populate them. So cherish the ambiguity folks, and the use of the word shillelagh.

Otherwise, I’m still on the hunt for publisher for this latest goddamned novel, called “Work.” Trying to see if there is a US publisher willing to take the chance that Canadian houses wouldn’t. I’m also trying to get a collection done on this side of the border, and if any good comes outta that I’ll tell you all about it.

In the meantime, I gotta thank all the writers I’ve come across this past year for reaching out and letting me drink beer with them and say awful things. A bunch of us went down to the Writers’ Trust Awards this week, where we watched Naben Ruthnum take it to the house and win the 25th annual Journey Prize for his story “Cinema Rex.” There were a lot of talented writers in that room, and all the free wine and beer you could pour down your gullet. From someone who didn’t really have any experience with that community just a year ago, these developments are a pretty big deal, and also make it a hell of a lot easier when you gotta fight off the black dog. Anyway, I’m out, but I’ll leave you with evidence that I know people who write things. So long for now.

At the Writers’ Trust Awards – Andrew Sullivan, Naben Ruthnum, Kris Bertin, Amanda Leduc, Kevin Hardcastle

(Holler at ’em: Andrew Sullivan, Naben Ruthnum, Kris Bertin, Amanda Leduc, Kevin Hardcastle)

The story I told you about earlier this year, “Bandits,” was published today in The Puritan, an ejournal out of Toronto that is run by Spencer Gordon and Tyler Willis. It was supposed to come out a little earlier, right around the same time that my story “We gotta save the leg” was published by Little Fiction, but there were some technical issues that slowed it down. Works out pretty good in the end though, as now I get to write separate posts about the new story and harass people online in a whole other set of aggressive emails, posts, and tweets.

You can read the story online, for free, if you click on this line. Also, you should probably download the whole issue as a PDF, and read stories by Amy Jones and Eric Lloyd Blix, as well as a bunch of poyems and a couple of reviews. A lot of work goes into these journals, whether they’re print or digital, so reading some free awesomeness is a pretty painless way to lend your support.

I did a ton of other content for the guys at The Puritan, including an audio clip you can listen to by clicking the little speaker icon you find partway through the story. This will take you to the reading if you click it. Or you can click THIS, and head right there. Enjoy my manly voice, hoser/hillbilly accent, and the sound of a man trying to record and edit audio on Garage Band in his living room between beers.

The rest of the content, including a bunch of questions I answered for those fellows about the history of the story, the process of writing it, and about writers and stories that matter, will be made available at some point on The Town Crier. Which is the blog that The Puritan folks run year round. I’ll post more as the content shows up, but you can always check out The Town Crier right here and perhaps it’ll be on there. If not, they also post a bunch of stuff about literary events and whatnot around Toronto. So if you’re in or near the city you might want to have a look periodically to see what is going on around here.

Lastly, I got to thank Andrew Sullivan. An Oshawa bred and Toronto based writer who works as an associate editor for The Puritan, who pulled this story from the slushpile and got it to Spencer and Tyler. It is a longer story and those are hard to land, so I couldn’t be happier about it ending up in The Puritan: Issue XXI. The Little Fiction story seemed to get a fair number of eyeballs on it, and hopefully the same goes for this one. Anyway, thanks to all of the people that worked on this story. As far as the guys I just mentioned, Spencer and Andrew both have collections of stories out there, and Tyler just took part in a very good interview in Open Book Toronto about the local literary journal scene. Here are the links: Sullivan. Gordon. Willis.

So yeah, give the story a read and see what you think. For Simcoe Country veterans, the subject matter that the story is based on will probably be awful familiar. And there is a shit-ton more of that kind on nonsense to work from. Probably almost too much of it. For everybody else, please ponder the mysteries of this bizarre geographical region, and give me a high five some day for making it outta there in one piece, more or less…

Like I said, I’ll post more when I see it. Thanks to all those who take the time to read the story or these posts. Everyone else can get bent. Nobody likes them anyway.

Cheers,

Hardcastle

Today a story I wrote called “We gotta save the leg” was published by Little Fiction. You can read the story online here, or download it to your mobile phone, tablet, e-reader, or Commodore 64. For free. Like all of my stories about upper middle class city strife, this work is not at all based on anything that ever actually happened. There is no possible way that I was nearly murdered by a rattlesnake before it got lit up with a boulder. You sure can’t prove it anyway…

Thanks the most to Troy Palmer, founder and publisher of Little Fiction, for all of his hard work on getting this sucker to press. And thanks to any other readers and editors on his team that had a hand in this. It is the first story I’ve had out since “To Have to Wait” and, based on science, it has 100% more chance of winning something like The Journey Prize (because I lost, and I am unfortunately not a looper).

For real though, I am proud to have this story in print (or e-print) and I hope some folks get a chance to read it and that some of them like the thing. I am also proud to see it beside the likes of Andrew Sullivan, Esq., and his story. Hell, it was his month on Little Fiction that I partially hijacked, so thanks for sharing some of your considerable thunder Sullivan. Everybody read Andrew’s story now. Here.

Keep your head on a swivel for my next story, “Bandits,” to be published soon by The Puritan. I have at least five or six other stories under submission all over Canada and the U.S., and will be writing many more over the summer, so perhaps this is the start of a hilarious year in writing and moderate poverty. If all goes well, I might be able to move up a notch to mild poverty. If so, I will try to have a wider rotation of pants.

As always, thanks to all that read my work, and to those who will read these new stories over the next little while. I’ll see if I can’t land a few more of them this year.

Cheers,

Hardcastle

Earlier this month I learned that a new story of mine, called “Bandits,” has been accepted for publication in The Puritan, a very good online literary journal. So far this year I’ve gone two for two with online journals. As I mentioned in a previous post, my story, “We gotta save the leg,” was accepted by Little Fiction and will be published sometime this year. By the looks of it “Bandits“ is going to be out first.

So keep an eye out for The Puritan: Issue XXI, which is their Spring 2013 edition. “Bandits” is a story about a family of outlaws with a unique approach to robbery, held together by serious blood bonds . I heard it said that the editorial board likened it to “Northern Exposure meets Deadwood.” I’ll take that.

I have been doing a bunch of supplementary material for The Puritan, including a post for their blog, The Town Cryer. I also managed to record myself reading a five or six minute chunk of the story, which is something they are also putting out there. I can’t promise that something I recorded on Garage Band between beers and UFC fights is gonna be awesome, but it does exist. That is for sure.

I’ll post again when the supplementary stuff drops, and for sure when the story comes out. It is a longer story and I didn’t know if it would find a home. But I’m glad it did. I spent most of 2012 working on my second novel, which is now to be forever known as “Work,” right as it goes out for U.S. submissions, and I realized I didn’t have a story out last year to qualify for another run at the Journey Prize, or any other such thing. Now I know for sure that I’ll have at least two stories out there in 2013. These online journals are quick to the punch and they are gaining clout everyday, so hopefully we’ll be able to get a bunch of eyeballs on this work. Last year, The Puritan had one of their authors, Nancy Jo Cullen, chosen for the Journey Prize Anthology, for her story “Ashes.” Another excellent online journal, Joyland, had fellow finalist Andrew Hood in there for his story “I’m Sorry and Thank you” (though Hood had two stories in there, that fucking jerk, with “Manning” chosen as a finalist for the prize). So, that is proof enough of the quality and reach of the new breed of online lit mag, and I’m very proud to have had work chosen by such excellent journals.

As far as other things I did on the internet, and whatnot, I was interviewed by Will Johnson, a writer and serious champion of other good writers. Will has a site called Literary Goon in which he interviews many of the authors he has met on his travels, and where he ponders the mysteries of life, and also budgies. He set me up hard to come off like a surly asshole and I took the bait. I regret nothing….

Click on this line for the link to that interview on Literary Goon.

Moving on…

I also wrote a post for Little Fiction and their ongoing Short Story Month stuff, where they asked a bunch of writers about short stories, and posted those answers for the earth to see. You can click this link to read what I wrote about short stories: Why I dig them, who I dig the most, why the form is so important, and whatnot. Or click the logo above.

I’ve been cranking new stories out all year, and I think some of them are pretty good. If any others get picked up I’ll let you know, and I’ll post info about these upcoming publications when I get it. In the meantime, I’ve got the novel, “Work,” being sent out to a bunch of publishers throughout the US. Not a one Canadian publisher has had the wherewithal to give me a shot on it, at least not yet, so perhaps I’ll be circumventing Canada entirely if it keeps up like this. It’s tough to burn two novels in your home country, especially when you’ve finally found an editor with the guts to work on it, just to see the book get shot down by their pub board. But hey, it ain’t over yet. I’m pretty much willing to work with anyone who has the testicular fortitude to work with me (literally or figuratively).

I even sent the novel to McSweeney’s, as they have an open submission system for novels. A couple years back I got a favourable response for some of my short stories from an editor there by the name of Jordan Bass, which was pretty sweet, and I’ve submitted the odd story every since. That would be a hell of a long shot for the book, as they probably read roughly four to five billion novels through this system each year. But hey, stupider things have happened for way less reason.

In the words of the sorely missed Cort McMeel, written after I first told him about my uphill battle selling a novel in Canada: “Its good that youre a little bit angry with the idiocy of the publishing world..get used to it, but let that foster and breed hard work and contempt: a happy writer is usually a bad one…”

Man, do I miss talking to that guy. He was the best guy you could ever hope to have with you in the trenches.

So, that’s all I got until I hear more about the upcoming stories. As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for all of your support, be it verbal, physical, financial, moral, or alcoholic…

Hardcastle

Today I found out that Cort McMeel passed away. That he took his own life this weekend. I don’t have all the details and I can’t speak to it as eloquently, or intimately, as his great friend Les Edgerton, who paid tribute to Cort earlier today. 

What I will say is that I’ve been corresponding with Cort for the past few years, that my good friend Leah Chamberlain, a classmate and colleague from my days at Cardiff University’s writing MA, put us in touch after being taught by him at the Lighthouse Writer’s Workshop in Denver. She had long edited my writing when I was out in the cold, and when she met Cort and worked with him she decided that we had to start a dialogue. Cort read my work and emailed me out of the blue, and he was earnest and passionate and bloody wild in his opinions on what he’d read. He encouraged me to send him more writing and to strike up a back and forth about our work.

I’ve been extraordinarily lucky in my writing career to have found a handful of mentors and supporters that have helped me grind out the days and get through the darker hours of the night. It started with Al Moritz at University of Toronto, Lindsay Clarke at Cardiff University, and since then I found another mentor in Cort and, just this past year, in Tamas Dobozy. There is something pretty special about connecting with another writer on a serious level. It is extremely rare and it happens in a very intense and immediate way. I still look up to all of those writers I name, and I try my best to mention them whenever I can, and keep them informed about any and all progress I make, because I don’t know that they realize how significant their support was when I was broke and starving and Goddamned lonely. All of those men that I mentioned have said something at one time or another to keep me from putting my head through the wall and to encourage me to keep writing. Cort was among the best of them, and I’ll miss him very much.

Cort was a publisher and editor, responsible for excellent literary journals like Murdaland and Noir Nation. He was a proud father and husband. He was an excellent writer and had his novel, “Short,” published a few years back to wide acclaim. He reached out to mentor me when he had absolutely no other reason than the fact that he liked my writing, and he wanted me to keep at it. He didn’t ask me to read his book and he didn’t brag, but he talked about his plans often. To get into a position to publish and support good authors, young and old, anyone who had some truth to lay out. He told me who to read and to keep on going, to aim ferocious at the truth of things, at real writing, at honest narrative. We got along because I felt the same way, and thought the same things about writing. It’s just that he was a much wiser and smarter man than I, and he knew more by leagues, cared more for literature as a whole than I knew how to. Over the years we knew each other I called the man ‘brother’ in my emails and I felt it in my guts. Cort could see far down the road. And he talked some sense into me at a time when I was awful low and told me to keep going down that road. All the way.

We’d been in close contact over the last year to talk about the novels we were working on. They were both centred around fighters, MMA fighters, and he wanted to swap books and tear each other to shreds until we got to the real meat of things. Cort helped publish a segment of my novel, “Work,” in the inaugural edition of Noir Nation: International Journal of Crime Fiction, and he’d finished reading the full manuscript a little while ago. I’d read the draft of his novel, “Cagefighter,” and was eagerly awaiting the final parts of it. They were very different books and that made it all the more interesting. I know he thought my book too focused on the family aspect and all the sappy stuff and he wanted more of the blood and guts, the fighting, what it really meant. His book focused hard on the mechanics of the fight, on the game, on the real blood and guts of it. I hope to see it published. I hadn’t spoken to Cort on it for a little while, and I guessed he was busy with all the things that life throws at you. I had his book in my hand this week and was going to email him again, but I didn’t.

The last I’d heard from Cort was in later January when he said he’d have notes on my novel very soon. Not long before that he’d sent me a quick message about the book. Again, just at the right time. And just the right thing in his mad, shorthand way. Just to let me know he hadn’t forgot:

Hardcastle–Halfway through…had some shit going on so got delayed…Im freaking really luvin it…more later..but you should be proud…

This meant a hell of a lot to me, I promise you. It sure does right now.

Cort. I regret that I didn’t get to talk to you more about your book, man. Or about anything else at all. I felt your words in my bones when we talked writing and I’ll do my best to keep fighting and get the novel out and keep going. Try to make you proud. You were a great mentor to me when I was taking a lot of punches and I’ll never forget it, brother.

For anyone out there who reads this, please do as Mr. Edgerton asked in his tribute and consider buying a copy of Cort McMeel’s novel “Short.” All of the royalties will go to his wife and kids and you’ll get to better know that man I’m talking about. And he was a great one.

Rest well, Cort.

Hardcastle

After my last post, back in January, I had about a month of bookstore mayhem to deal with before I was able to focus on properly writing again. During that time I waited to hear what would become of my new novel, with has been submitted to various Canadian publishers, a bunch of whom have dropped the same old horseshit lines about how I’m a very good writer and there is no way they can publish my book. If you are confused by that stance, join the fucking club, but that has been my life as a novelist so far.

Nonetheless, I think the book is pretty good. At the behest of my agent I’ve been reading a bunch of CanLit writers, just to see what’s out there. To be honest, there is some good writing, but it mostly just furthers my bewilderment about the machinery of Canadian publishing, and reinforces my belief that there is no intelligible pattern nor design to a lot of the decisions being made in those rooms. Nonetheless, I did have a good shot with an excellent editor recently. They fought for the novel with their publishing house’s editorial board but couldn’t get the book done. I felt like putting my head through the wall for a while, no doubt, but literary landscapes can change quick around here. Not long afterward I found out that I’m not dead in the water with this particular editor yet, and may get another kick at the can before I flat-out turn to crime. The reasons for this will all have to be left opaque for now, but I’ll say more if I hear more and feel like I can say it. In the meantime, keep all your fingers crossed, and your motherfucking toes, please.

Until then, it is a short story explosion over here. I started really laying down new stories in mid-February, and since then I’ve finished, edited, and submitted five stories to Canadian and US journals. The very first one I submitted, which is called “We gotta save the leg,” was accepted by a very good online journal called Little Fiction, run by the affable and goddamned expedient Troy Palmer. I’m not sure when it will come out, but keep an eye out for more news on that one, and check out what Little Fiction are all about by clicking this link: LITTLE FICTION

As I mentioned, I’ve got a number of other stories under consideration at various journals across North America. Here’s a list of their titles and a brief rundown of what horribleness they entail:

Raccoon – 3077 words

– Wherein an up and coming female Muay Thai fighter blows out a disc in her lower back. Tries to get by during one of the worst snowstorms on record. Takes a fair amount of medications one evening and adventures out in the white. Sees something heinous near a city backalley.

Thought you were fast – 4082 words

– Story about a contractor with a young family who struggles to impress his boy as a upstanding human male. Somebody he knows dies. Wayward cattle try to kill him. Things are set on fire.

Bandits – 9045 words

– In which a son learns the outlaw trade of snowmobile robbery from his hillbilly father, his uncles. Meets a townie girl. Struggles with the dynamics of their fragmented family. People go through the ice on sleds. People get shot. Plenty of snow and violence.

Hunted by coyotes – 9256 words

– Where a young man works one of the worst jobs ever imagined throughout Alberta. Knocks doors as a travelling sales agent for gas and power. Watches his moral compass go haywire. Sees coworkers fall off his crew. Comes to believe that all the dogs in the province are trying to kill him. Trailer parks and threats of gunplay abound.

Left arm – 3611 words

– Story about a child raised near feral by his granpa and uncle. Parents long gone. Taught to fight and taught other lowly things. Boy grows up and does not tow the line. Meets a girl. Brainpans get fractured. Prison awaits. Foul farmlands trickle down the generations.

If any of that sounds interesting to you, then great, keep your eyes peeled. I’ve got plans for a bunch more and hope to grind them out day by day. If any of them land I’ll let people know.

Thanks again for supporting my writings and ravings about the whole deal. I’d say I’ll try to post more on here but it would probably be a lie, unless there is something useful to say. Maybe if I can get some actual steady string of short stories accepted I’ll be able to fire posts up at a better clip. Who knows? Until then I’ll been drinking a bunch of beer and thinking up more awful shit to write about. None of it will have semicolons, exclamation points, or first-person present-tense. There will be absolutely no poetry. Ever.

Follow me on Twitter if you want, for more regular, daily nonsense: KHardcase. Or don’t, and go suck an egg.

Take care and believe in your dreams and whatnot.

KH

It’s a new year, so I figured I’d show up on here for once and talk about what’s up. It’s been awhile since I last wrote a post, back in November right after the Writers’ Trust Gala, and there isn’t really all that much new stuff to report but I’ll give it a go anyway.

I finished my second novel on November 8th and sent it off to my agent, Meggie Macdonald. And, after a couple of weeks of tinkering with it, we got it to where we wanted it to be and she started getting it ready for submission. The best part of my Journey Prize experience was meeting with other writers, editors, and publishers, and other people involved in promoting Canadian literature, and Meggie made sure to get the manuscript off to those editors that I spoke with and who didn’t think I was a complete dickhead.

The title of the novel is “Songs at the Dying of the Day,” which was taken from a line in the latter half of the novel and suggested by Meggie Mac herself. I am not awesome at titling things, unless something strikes my fancy as I write a story or book. I had this novel under the title “Work” because that is what I called the segment of it that was published in an American online literary crime fiction journal called Noir Nation. But I think her suggestion suits the novel, even if I forgot I wrote that title in a line of the book. But give me a fucking break. There are lots of lines in there.

All in all, the new book is with a couple dozen editors at publishing houses in Canada and the US, and Meggie tells me that she thinks it will “ruin people.” That’s what I wanted to hear. I know that a manuscript always has its flaws, and I’m sure I could do some work to make this fucker really shine, but I’ve read what’s out there and I know where this one should stack up. It is better than the last novel I wrote, which was pretty good but never found a home. I think it is about shit that really matters, and I would put the writing itself up against most other authors and take my lumps if I was wrong. Nonetheless, I’ve been through this process before and I know how the game is played, so we got our fingers crossed and in the meantime I’m just gonna keep writing, keep working on some new short stories, and wait to see which way my life is gonna go this year.

I’ve already got some early rejections. Which are hilarious as always. It’s hard to listen to someone tell you they think you are a significant writer or that you write as well as anybody out there and then they tell you they can’t take a shot at it. But, in the end, you gotta have faith in the quality of the work. If you know it is good, and the right people know it is good, and worth publishing, you have to believe somewhere in your heart that everyone who rejects it is a dumbass and that they will one day regret passing on it. They likely aren’t and the probably wont, but, in my experience, that is the kind of assholery you need to master, at least in your own brain, in your “me” time after you read about your rejections, if you ever hope to have the fortitude to make a living at this trade.

To do that properly you do need to have a couple of people you trust who will tell you what sucks and what doesn’t, and you need to listen to them, but that is something I’m lucky to have had for a while now. Which is why I’m so belligerent, and why I don’t just quit this whole deal and start a life of crime.

If anything breaks with this novel it will likely happen pretty soon in this new year. Either way, I will let the twelve people who have ever looked at this site know about it. And I’ll even tell some people in person, as we used to do it the old days. Until then I’ve got some new stories on the go. I got some of my notes and plans up there in the picture above this post, and those notes are from the end of one story I’m working on and another one that has been a long time coming. Ever since my prairie odyssey from 2005-2010. I’ve learned in my time that the best thing to do when waiting on a response to your writing is to write a bunch more shit and send it out. So that it is the plan. I just gotta get a handle on my shite job and manage my beer time and Muay Thai time. Then I’ll have a few more stories out there in the world.

Thanks for reading up on my junk and thanks for the support, and thanks to all the poor souls who met me last year through the Journey Prize/Writers’ Trust events and made the hilarious mistake of following me on twitter and/or investigating my other writing.

Take care all, and happy new year.

KH

I didn’t really get a chance to say what all went down over the last couple of weeks, what with work and writing stuff and punching things at the gym. But now that the big Writers’ Trust Gala is over, I figured I’ll get something on here.

Alex Pugsley won The Journey Prize for his story “Crisis on Earth-X,” published in The Dalhousie Review. I got a chance to meet Pugsley doing a short interview for The National Post, and he is a genuinely nice guy and a good writer, so I congratulate him on the win. Afterword, me and the other finalist, Andrew Hood, hung out at the pub and had a couple twenty drinks. He was a cool guy too, so there were no hard feelings nor chairs thrown. The bottom line is that the whole experience of being included in The Journey Prize Anthology, and especially being named as a finalist, gave us all a lot of opportunity to put ourselves out there and get some visibility while we all try to make a living at this fairly goddamned difficult way to make a living. I was definitely the least published and least known writer in those rooms, but almost everybody I talked to had something decent to say and they made you feel very welcome for just some guy. Writing is a pretty solitary thing for me, so when you get to see that there is actually a community out there that gives a shit it is an awful positive experience.

The highlight of the whole series of events for me was getting to meet and talk with Tamas Dobozy, who rightfully won the Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize for his short story collection “Siege 13.” If you ain’t read it yet, get it, read it, and tell somebody. That guy can write like hell. We are very different kinds of writers but we got along great and he was extraordinarily kind about my story, “To Have To Wait,” and even got into some of my other stuff that can be found online. Tamas is a prof at Laurier, and has a wife and kids and a lot on his plate, so having him take any time out of his day to put up with my crap is unbelievable, and I won’t soon forget it. I got that guy’s back forever.

Otherwise, I went home and licked my wounds (by which I mean I drank everything) after the Writers’ Trust Awards on the 7th, and then spent a good four hours that next night doing the final corrections on my second novel. I sent it to my agent, Meggie Macdonald, and she is figuring out what to do with it now. I think it’s pretty good, but we’ll see what happens. I met some publishers and shook some hands, and some of them have agreed to read the book. That’s about all you can ask for, is someone to give good work an honest reading. If there’s any weight to it someone will hopefully publish the stuff. So thanks to everyone I met for getting ready to give it a go and see if I am any good or not.

I had to suit up for the Writers’ Trust Gala on Thursday, the 15th, and got to hang out with a bunch of other “emerging” writers at the Apple iBookstore table, put together by Christopher Jackson, who had the misfortune of sitting beside me all night. He was an excellent fellow and I gotta thank him for letting me sit there and talk his ear off. All the fancy shit isn’t quite my bread and butter, but nobody threw me out or anything. I got a chance to talk to Amanda Hopkins, and the other Writers’ Trust staff and helped me out through the last couple of weeks, and who put on all of these amazing events. They bust their asses for writers, even for guys like me, and they deserve to be recognized for it. Also, Becky Toyne, Elizabeth Cameron, Anita Chong, and everybody else who was part of the process, you are all heroes. I appreciate all you do. Seriously.

That’s about all I got for now. I’m gonna get back into some short stories while I wait to get notes on the novel and fix it up for submission. I might have took about ten years off my life with all the booze and tie wearing, but I certainly feel like there was a fire lit under my ass to get to work on new writing and to plough ahead. Keep your head on a swivel. There is a lot more to come.

Anyway, thanks to my friends and family for all the support. Sorry I couldn’t take the big prize home for you guys, but I ain’t going nowhere. I feel like I’ve gone a long way in a couple of years, and we are just getting started here. So thanks again and keep on reading.

Take care everybody. Happy Saturday. I’m gonna get into a tallboy or twelve and watch the fights. Also, young’uns at work have convinced me to get Twitter going again. And I guess I’ll see what I can do before I get booted from the internet. So here you go. Prepare for pure nonsense.

Cheers,

Hardcastle

https://twitter.com/KHardcase

Here’s another piece from The National Post that came out today. I’m not sure if it is in the print edition of the paper, but you can read it here anyway:

The Writers’ Trust Conversations: Kevin Hardcastle and Tamas Dobozy

Big thanks to Becky Toyne for setting this one up as well, and to Elizabeth Cameron for coordinating the whole thing. Of course, there was a much larger conversation around the published Q & A, and it was an honour for an up and comer like me to have a chance to speak to a short story master like Tamas Dobozy, who is up for the Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize this evening. I am very grateful to him for taking the time to read my rants, and for ranting back some.

Hopefully you enjoy this little bit of press leading up to actual handing out of the Journey Prize this evening. On that note, I am off to get mildly fancified and probably drink a beer or six to simmer down. Win or lose I got a huge leg up from having “To have to wait“ chosen for The Journey Prize Stories, and especially from being named as a finalist. Good luck to all of the nominees, for all of the Writers’ Trust awards. Whatever happens, it’s out of my hands now and I’ll be hitting the open bar hard either way, so there’s that…

See you on the other side. Thanks for all the support. KH.