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The Last Post
This is my last blogpost.
It's the end of a season, the end of a month, the end of a mission. It's a time for endings. So, adieu to the blog. It's been good writing practice and fun and reflective to send out a blogpost every so often but I've decided I need to spend more time writing short stories and creative nonfiction pieces.
My new website, jgpmacadam.com, is also up and running with photos and a contact form.
It's been great hanging out here with you, and God knows we all needed a little reflection over the course of the pandemic—which isn't really quite over, is it?
Stay in touch, check out my latest publications, see you on the other side.
2nd Place in the 2021 Colonel Darren L. Wright Award
Welp, I learned yesterday that "Time Hack" my short story about a (fictional) Afghan vet and her time on a remote outpost as the only woman amid a hundred infantry guys took 2nd place in the category of Prose by a Veteran or Servicemember.
It's really a thrill and I'm glad that this character, Marcy, resonated as much as she did. I just hope I managed to do her justice.
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #17
Welp, here I am, posting another pandemic periodical. In my last post, just a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't too sure I would be posting anymore about the pandemic. But with the way the delta variant is plugging up hospital beds in Florida and Nevada and, locally, turning all of the counties adjacent to Hood River County back into red wear-a-mask status. Oh wait, new update: Hood River County is also in red status. (Of course, this is the week our toddler starts daycare.) So, yes, we're in another stretch of pandemic anxiety and the thread of pandemic periodicals continues!
Now onto wildfires...
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #16
The masks are off, the delta variant spreads, there are localized pandemics of the (mostly) unvaccinated across the country, the bees busy themselves around the spread-eagle heads of our sunflower flock. Pandemic news takes a backseat, you have to glance in the rearview to see it, background noise to other more-pressing news, like infrastructure deals and the withdrawal from Afghanistan.
Holy Guacamole, what a week...
Holy guacamole, what a week...
Somewhere around June 10th, I received notification from the editors of two—yes, two—print publications informing me that my short stories have been accepted for their upcoming anthologies. They are:
- "Real Red Blood" to be published in PROUD TO BE: VOL 10, through Southeast Missouri State University Press, and...
"A Sleeping Peace" to be published in ALTERNATIVE WAR by B Cubed Press.Actually ended up not working out...
What a week!
Update: "We, Grits" is published!
My short story, "We, Grits" has been published today! It's online in As You Were: The Military Review, Vol. 14, by Military Experience & the Arts. I'm grateful to have worked with David Ervin, the Editor-in-Chief in bringing this short story to publication.
Sometimes, it feels so good to have your work accepted for publication. Sometimes, it's hard to believe I ever wrote anything worthy of publication.
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #15
The roses bloom. The sunflower seedlings thicken. The tomatoes start to set their first fruit. It's raining today for the first time in, oh, I'd say, three weeks. Everyone says it's an unusual spring. Prognostications of drought find their way into our ears. Rumblings of a rough fire season ahead. Mostly, so far, we just need to make sure to water the lawn.
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #14
I'd never seen a Stellar's Jay before, having grown up and lived most of my life in the eastern United States where the Blue Jay is the most common jay. The Stellar's all-black head and nape blew my mind the first time I spotted a pair of them at our feeder. The pair, I believe, is nesting over in the fir about 150 meters behind our house, or at least that's where I hear them squawking most of the time. Still, even after seeing them many times now, whenever I catch sight of one or both of them, I can't look away.
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #13
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| Smooth fringecup |
It's been over a month since my last post and what a month and more it has been. The baby is not a baby anymore even though we still call him "the baby"—he be full-blown toddler now. He runs, jumps, slides, swings, throws little tantrums, asks for what he wants, screams for what he wants, knows colors, colors with crayons and chalk, has preferences of what he likes to watch on TV. I don't think I even watch TV anymore, I just watch kid's shows.
A Perhaps Weekly Pandemic Periodical, #12
On a cool early spring morning in Washington, D.C., I spent the better part of a Saturday playing dead inside the United States House of Representatives. I was not there for a tour nor any official posting. Rather, I was roleplaying, along with several dozen other soldiers.
It was a drill for a biochemical attack -slash- mass casualty event.
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