2024 Writing Roundup
Hi All:
Welcome to 2025. Hopefully there’s less enshittification and engenocidation than 2024, though that’s not looking likely. I thought I’d start this year off with a brief roundup of my recent published writing. I had a book of short fiction published, and a number of stories and poems. I’m planning on posting more on here in the coming months, in anticipation for my forthcoming novel, Lake Burntshore, which comes out in April and is available for pre-order now! In the meantime, here’s what I was up to in 2024:
Rubble Children
My second collection of short fiction, Rubble Children, came out in July with University of Alberta Press. Seven and a half interlinked stories about the Toronto Jewish community, Israel/Palestine, Zionism and antizionism, cannabis culture, and belonging, all drenched in suburban wonder and dread. If you haven’t checked it out yet, it’s never too late! Available wherever you get your books.
“Tasmanian Shores.” This short story came out in Prairie Fire. It’s a fictional retelling of the story of Critchley Parker Junior’s doomed attempt to scout an area of Tasmania in 1942 as a possible Jewish refuge from Nazi Europe, a plan which the Zionists are attempting to block. Available to download and read on my website.
“Jawbone Lake.” Another short story, this one published in the new Canadian fiction magazine Camel, which is also where the below image comes from. The story, as its name suggests, is set on a small lake in upstate New York; starting with its post-ice age birth, the story narrates some of the human habitation on the lake, including a failed attempt to run an airbnb on its shore (as well as a winter mushroom trip out on the lake’s frozen water). Also available on my website.
“Good Mood Fleeting.” This poem came out in Arc Poetry this past fall. It is part of a duology, the other poem called “Bad Mood Rising.” I’ve been accumulating a decent stack of poems on moods, the cosmos, resource extraction, water, malls; this is one of the first of the new batch to be published. I’ll paste the poem here, because, why not?
That’s it for now. More soon!
Aaron