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Thievery is a series of blog posts about my story inspirations. The Story: ‘Bibliophagy’, published in elimae. The Inspiration: My father. The man in the story is not my father, and the mother is not my mother, and the brother is not my brother. But they are the inspiration. I spent years avoiding certain subjects in my writing, but then one day I thought FUCK THIS SHIT. I was sick of lying. Then I wrote about being a teenage nude…

Thievery is a series of blog posts about my story inspirations. The Story: ‘Rebel Girl’, published in Girl Crush (Cleis, 2010) The Inspiration: When I saw a call for stories on the theme of a girl crush, Bikini Kill’s song ‘Rebel Girl’ immediately came into my head because it is a kickass romantic riot grrrl love story. As a 17 year-old I spent a lot of time stomping around the suburbs with this blasting through my headphones, and I certainly…

Thievery is a series of blog posts about my story inspirations. The Story: ‘The Last 3,600 Seconds’, first published at Circlet, reprinted in The Forest Book of Bedtime Stories and The Moose & Pussy 6: Crucifiction. The Inspiration: I woke up at 4am one August morning with a line from a song stuck in my head: “I dreamed that the world was crumbling down, we sat on my back porch and watched it”. The line is from a Matchbox 20…

Did I mention that my brother, Ross Logan, is a cinematographer/producer/general all-round awesome guy? Here’s his latest project: I love this video. It makes me homesick.

I just participated in a challenge for National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), which consisted of writing one poem a day in April. In case you missed them, here they are: Day 1: Carmencita and the Virgin Day 2: The Faceless Girl Tells Stories Day 3: Lakota Day 4: Beast Sighs: A Furry Love Day 5: My Lady’s Child (upcoming at Foundling Review) Day 6: Sewing the Labyrinth Day 7: Bibliophagy (upcoming at elimae) Day 8: Advice to Horror Girl Victims…

When writing a story, I always get stuck at the 75% mark. I’ve already taken the entire world of possibilities and whittled it down to one group of people, one set of locations, one tone and voice. I know how the story starts and how it’s supposed to end. It’s just that I can’t quite get there. The story is far enough done that  all the excitement of mystery and possibility for me as a writer have gone, but not…