Fiction/Creative Writing on Tumblr and Twitter

Question: can anyone recommend their favorite tumblrs and twitters that feature great fiction/creative writing? Anything particularly inventive and interesting, and that engages deeply with the form? I already know my favorites, but I’m working on a presentation for a conference, and would appreciate as many examples and suggestions as possible. Thanks!

Part Two: Every Time I Sing This Song I Think of Henry Kissinger (Part One here)

I AM MILDLY STONED FROM SHH STEVE’S STASH SHH BUT THIS SONG MAKES NO SENSE WHAT THE HELL IS A MUSKRAT I AM AWARE OF KISSINGER BUT A MUSKRAT IS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY I AM FUCKING FUCKED IF I WOULD WANT TO HAVE A MUSKRAT TO LOVE I CAN’T EVEN GET A GIRL AND I’M ACTUALLY FOURTEEN BUT A MUSKRAT IS TAKING IT TOO WAY FAR.

YOU KIND OF HAVE TO WONDER ABOUT PEOPLE FROM LIKE THE SEVENTIES THE QUESTION OF THE DAY IS WERE THEY ALL CRAZY? I KNOW THEY WERE ALL DOING LSD TO FIX THEIR MARRIAGE PROBLEMS BUT DOES ACID MAKE YOU WANT TO FUCK BARN ANIMALS CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME? I WILL PAY YOU EVERYTHING TO EXPLAIN IT TO ME EVEN THE PIZZA MONEY MY MOM LEFT ME BEFORE SHE WENT OUT WITH “DARREN LORD ASSWIPE” AS I ENJOY SHOUTING TO HIS FUCKING AWFUL TOYOTA AS THEY DRIVE TO THE KEG OR WHATEVER “ELEGANT” SHIT THEY ARE CHOWING ON.

OMG ARE THOSE THE SOUNDS OF A FUCKING MUSKRAT FARTING IN A SWAMP? WAS THIS SHIT NORMAL? ARE OLD PEOPLE AWARE OF THEIR LAMENESS OR IS IT LIKE A FUCKING LAME CLOUD THAT ONLY TEENS CAN SEE? LIKE MY FRIEND STEVE’S MOMS IS TOTALLY JAZZED ABOUT HER NEW HAIRCUT BUT IT IS COMPLETELY ONE THAT WAS FASHIONABLE ON JAMIE LEE CURTIS’S CUNT BEFORE I WAS BORN. NOT THAT I WOULDN’T MIND TAPPING THAT “ELEGANT” JL CUNT AT SOME POINT HEY STEVE HOPE YOU ARE READING THIS I’M GOING TO KISSINGER YOUR MOM’S ASS.

I HAVE A FEELING THAT MY FATHER WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO WAS NOT LAME IN YE OLD TIMEZ WHEN THEY NAMED BANDS FUCKING CAPTAIN AND TENILLE LIKE THEY WERE A BRAND OF FISH STICKS OR SOMETHING. I FEEL SO DUMB FOR SELLING SOME OF HIS VINYL FOR POT A FEW WEEKS AGO IT WAS ALL QUALITY STUFF I CAN ALMOST HEAR THE LED ZEPPLIN NOW. YAH YAH I’M GOING TO REGRET THE VINYL LOSS WHATEVER I CAN DOWNLOAD EVERYTHING IN TEN SECONDS EVEN FLAC SO WHO CARES ABOUT A BUNCH OF RECORDS? (AT LEAST MY “HOW DO YOU WORK THE TV” MOTHER UNDERSTANDS THE *NEED* FOR HIGH SPEED CAUSE OF HER GROSS PLENTYOFFISH PROFILE) YOU’D THINK THIS WERE THE SEVENTIES WHEN PEOPLE GOT RATIONED LIKE FIVE RECORDS A YEAR. FUCK NO WONDER C&T WERE BIG BECAUSE IF YOU ACCIDENTALLY BOUGHT THIS SHIT AND IT WAS 20% OF THE MUSIC YOU HEARD THAT YEAR YOU’D WANT ALL YOUR FRIENDS TO SUFFER TOO.

SHIT MY MOTHER HAS CHANGED THE CHILDSAFE SETTINGS ON THE NETWORK AGAIN. FORTUNATELY SHE ALWAYS CHANGES THE PASSWORD TO SOMETHING RELATED TO HIS DEATH WHICH MAKES IT PRETTY EASY FOR ME TO GUESS. LIKE NOVEMBER OR ST MARYS. I KNOW I KNOW I DON’T EVEN WANT TO ASK WHY SHE’S TUNING INTO THAT FREQUENCY OF FUCKING EMO. SOMETIMES IT’S OFTEN JUST A SWEAR WORD LIKE MOTHERFUCKER WHICH IS IRONIC CONSIDERING WHAT SHE IS TRYING TO STOP ME FROM DOING. ONCE IT WAS LORAZEPAM AND I WAS LIKE LOL MOM TRY HARDER GUESS WHAT I STEAL TO GET THROUGH MY FUCKING MATH CLASS.

ON SECOND THOUGHT I WILL MOST DEFINITELY ORDER SOME PIZZA WITH THIS CASH. THIS POT HAS OPENED MY EYES TO THE SOUNDS OF MY STOMACH. IT KIND OF SOUNDS LIKE MUSKRAT FARTS ACTUALLY. THIS STRAIN OF POT DOES REALLY PLAY ON THOSE LED ZEPPLIN EMOTIONS THAT COME SWEEPING IN FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE. I TOTALLY REMEMBER HEARING THIS MUSKRAT SONG IN THE CAR WITH MY PARENTS AND I KEPT WANTING TO BE SICK BECAUSE I WAS READING X-MEN COMICS AS WE DROVE AND I GUESS I WAS A SHITTY LITTLE LAME BOY BACK THEN BECAUSE I REMEMBER WANTING THIS SONG REALLY BADLY AND MY DAD SAID WE HAD IT BACK AT THE HOUSE. BUT I GUESS I WANTED IT LIKE RIGHT THEN CAUSE I TOTALLY VOMITED. IT’S SO DUMB I JUST REALLY NEEDED THIS SONG. I BELIEVE THAT IS THE LAST TIME I HAVE VOMITED OVER MUSIC BUT I WOULD NOT LIKE TO BET ON IT BECAUSE WHO KNOWS I PLAN TO BE DRUNK ALL THE TIME AS SOON AS I CAN DRIVE.

OH SHIT GUESS WHAT THE PASSWORD IS MUSKRATLOVE. AND NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT I TOTALLY MIGHT HAVE ACCIDENTALLY TOTALLY SOLD MY DADS MUSKRAT LOVE ALBUM FOR SOME POT.  

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOPS. SORRY MOMS I REALLY DIDN’T KNOW. I KNOW I GIVE YOU A HARD TIME BUT I’M NOT SUCH A TERRIBLE GUY AFTER ALL AND MAYBE WE CAN PRETEND THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN.

OH SHIT ME THIS IS OBVSLY THE WORST MUSIC I’VE EVER HEARD BUT THAT WASN’T A VERY KISSINGER MOVE.

Part One: I Never Found Anyone Who Fulfilled My Needs

Although it is clear to the greatest number of people that this is a song of Infinite Beauty and First-Class Showmanship, I have found myself over these many years been distressed by the emotions that are stashed in its heart of hearts. I am talking about of course the frightening words “I decided long ago NEVER to walk in ANYONES SHADOW” and “I live as I believe” and this is the number one reason this Great Country is crumbling to its knees. This selfishness and anger toward our elders is leading us away from the path of righteousness.

I have lived in this Great Country for over fifty-four years in four States and in each one I have only found a falling away of values, and a rapid inflation of iniquity. My neighbour, Henry Lewis, a man of great physical beauty to be sure has even taken licentious ideas about me. He looks at me when I ask him not to bang the garbage cans together, and I am bothered by his eyes’ verboseness. After that, it is guaranteed I will not settle my thoughts down enough to enjoy the Biggest Loser. It does arouse me to be sure but these are times for Manhood and Strength because our President needs our support against the liars.

I have also lost the ability to write letters, which to me are further signs of the End of Things. I once wrote long letters to my Aunt that were filled with the precisely elegant exact turns of phrase to delight her soul. But now my pen is stopped up like a toilet, and I find myself roaming the fields behind my house beheading the dandelions with my foot. Even the birds are dying in the river. It helps me to try to recreate the exact conditions of my Parents cupboards. They were filled row upon row with soup cans with red labels zipped tight. There were six cans on the bottom row and never more than three cans in the row above but this altered with our savings or my Mother’s Everchanging Moods.

Henry Lewis showed me his Penis as well. Or what I thought was his penis between the slats of the picket fence. He pulled it out of his shorts. This is the iniquity of which the world is growing coarser, and moving away from the eternal joy of my childhood ages. This “shadow” that Ms Houston believes you cannot walk in is the “shadow” I encounter every day in my brain’s eye. I think this “shadow” is the struggle we all have with our souls in order to follow the path my mother in her wisdom flicked into me with her Spatula. It is the one my Aunt tries daily to pull me from with her many and bothersome phone calls about my “recurring thoughts.”

You should not worry about me, I have scared Henry Lewis away from his iniquity and roared at him “You do not have love in your heart of hearts! Please do not step onto my half of our shared walkway!” Which distressed him a great deal as we enjoyed drinking our long way out of sorrows together in his very Well-Equipped basement bar. (Henry Lewis is a Bachelor and often wears shorts.) But I think he knows that he has the upper hand for his look still has power over my very soul, right to the tingling edges of my toes. He is a strong man, almost as Strong as our First Black President.

I of course watched the inauguration as a Proud American of our First Black President with Henry Lewis and I secretly cried in his washroom as it has a fan to cover the sounds of your tears. It was a thing of Beauty much like this song and the visuals, which also make one cry. It gives you HOPE that endless INJUSTICES will be righted and the people WHO HAVE SUFFERED will find peace and forgiveness.

So though I cannot support Ms Houston’s desire for freedom and ruination of all that is good and honourable about this Great Country, I am always delighted by this song whenever I can catch it on the radio, perhaps in the car or even at the barber shop. Which is why it is music and not I suppose God, who does not make you feel 2 different things at the same time. It is a good reminder of times gone by when everything was beautiful and there was not a cancer on this country’s breathing face. My Mother of course did not like this type of music but she had little patience for weakness.

And like all timeless classics this song can make your foot involuntarily bounce and want to join the happiness of yourself to others. This can include but is not limited to iniquitous next door neighbours who perhaps have waited long enough and deserve our forgiveness and maybe even after these frosty weeks a Friendly Embrace.