Transplanted Austinite (now he’s in Oakland or some hippie shit) and tireless surrealinternetflarfgobbler Reynard Seifert (remember Zzzombiezzz?) finished up this chapbook a couple months ago and I forgot to holla. “How To Skin The Moon” is 64 pages of great short stories, some of which have already been published on Pindeldyboz and Hobart. Rumor has it that a novel is sorta-kinda on the way, but you’ll have to follow the twitter trail to know for sure.
Here’s an excerpt from one of the stories called “A Businessman &”
I tell her, I mean Business. I am a Businessman. I am a Businessman & I mean Business. I tell her, I’m going to find a new wife, a young wife, a new young wife who won’t laugh at me in my own voice. She says, That’s fine, dear, but I’ll need your keys, the keys to this house, our home. And I say, Oh really, you need my keys? Well, that’s just fine, that’s great, in fact, they’re right here! I search for my keys in my Business pants but all I can find is myself and I am touching myself and thinking about keystrokes and I can’t find them. And I think, It’s okay, self, we’ll just stay right here where we belong; we don’t need a new wife; this one is fine. And she says, Actually, now that I’ve thought about it I would rather make a new husband, please get off my marble floor. You’re in this house, my home.
