The War on Words

I’ve been trying to figure out how to produce a rant of my own on this subject without going totally off the stated topic. Philip Pullman has done it for me.

But not to fear. I’m not copping out. I’m just stuffing his rant into the hull breach so the atmosphere drop doesn’t kill me while I finish up my own. Hopefully when it’s done it’ll blast this ship apart, and I can float home.

In the Lee of a Stunted Pine

I notice everyone else’s blog has a mysterious, more or less eye-catching title, serving the dual purpose of making it ridiculously difficult to figure out who’s writing it, and making people (in the case of the more eye-catching title as opposed to the less) actually want to read it. I got to wondering: ought I to have a mysterious, eye-catching title?

Partly because I happened to be listening to Ramble On at the time I had this thought, and was filled with that epic sensibility of ancient winds across lost plateaus where wanderers build fires and sing of the verges of dark, and partly because of the lonely, icebound pine in the col between Wildcat and Carter I’m using as the navigation image for this page, I came up with the title of this post as a possibility.

What think you?

Mad Demolition Expert Creates Alter Ego, Electromagnetic Escape Pod

This man, Tom Every (aka Dr. Evermor), is my new hero. He has created a tangible, physical, three-dimensional piece of Magic Realism–and not for assimilation into some colossal-budget, contentless movie, but to sit in his backyard and collect time and awe and dust! I don’t even know if I can call this Magic Realism, though the spirit is certainly there. One ought perhaps to coin a still klunkier, more self-contradictory term, like Science Fiction Realism–only I’d rather trade my self-respect for a Jar-Jar Binks costume and a kick in the head than do so.
O, why can’t *I* be retired and sit around in my own personal junkyard fabricating alter-ego supervillains to fling across the earth like shards of meteorite to take root in quiet suburbs and SHAKE them until they turn into Phillip Dick distopias and Jules Verne submersibles? Why?

‘”Look, this isn’t Disneyland,” said Every. “I’m not here to entertain you. If you want to have fun here, you have to participate, you have to add your own thoughts into the mix. Boring people are totally bored here, but interesting people have a great time.”‘

O. Well then. Guess I’ll get back to writing.

As It Began

Welcome, ye sojourners of the abstract dimension, to Michael J. DeLuca’s Fantasy Writing Forum, a place where Michael will expose to harsh light the mechanics of his creative process, and invite both criticism and participation in hopes that he may better understand that process.

I, Michael J. DeLuca, am a nominally published (, soon-to-be self-published ( writer of fantasy, horror, and mad-crazy unclassifiable (interstitial) fiction. Now that my writing has picked up a few fans and a bit of recognition, I thought it time to start the tiny snowball rolling down the long and gentle slope, such that one day it may turn to the monstrous, catastrophic Mt. St. Helens of ash and ice I so dearly desire it to be.

So, to those few and much-appreciated fans, I dedicate this niche of non-space. I hope they’ll find it, and see their way to helping me make it better.