My First Ellen Datlow Anthology!

My extremely wrong story “The Mysteries” will be in the Ellen Datlow-edited anthology, Nightmare Carnival, coming out this fall from Dark Horse. The ToC is right here – please focus on the incredible Sandwich of Motherfucking Awesome right at the end, which I have listed below, because, Motherfucking Awesome:

Skullpocket by Nathan Ballingrud
The Mysteries by Livia Llewellyn
Screaming Elk, Mt. by Laird Barron


Years Best Weird Fiction

Years Best Weird Fiction Volume One Laird Barron will be reprinting my story “Furnace”, from The Grimscribe’s Puppets, for the first volume of Years Best Weird Fiction, to be published by Undertow Press. The full table of contents is here.









All-American Horror

All American Horror Four years ago I sold a reprint of “The Engine of Desire” to Mort Castle for his anthology All-American Horror of the 21st Century: The First Decade 2000-2010. I waited and waited, and shit happened and the years rolled by, and it finally popped up on Amazon sometime in the last month (the official publication date was last October, but you know how these things go). I got my contributor copy… today! It’s a fairly comprehensive anthology – thirty stories by some very big, iconic names in horror (who I was a bit surprised to be sharing a ToC with), and a few very tiny names, like me. (I’ll post the ToC sometime this weekend, when I have the time.) If you so desire, you can pick up a copy at Amazon or Powell’s.

Mort Castle wrote a little bit about each story, which I didn’t know he was going to do. Here’s what he said about “The Engine of Desire”:

“It’s a romance. It’s a family story. Livia Llewellyn gives us the 1975 Bruce “Born to Run” Springsteen for the soundtrack – until Patti Smith pushes him aside and her screaming engines take over.”

So true, man. So very true.


Lucius Shepard, RIP

I’m horribly saddened by this. He’s long been one of my favorite writers, whose novellas – in particular, my personal favorite, “Viator” – are some of the best I’ve ever read. I never met him, and he had no idea who I was (he always called me Lisa!), but he was very sweet to me in our few interactions on Facebook, and I appreciated that.

Michael Swanwick has a wonderful eulogy here.

Five reasons I know Spring is near…

1. I wore sunglasses instead of my sad dork earmuffs for the first time in four months.

2. When I ordered iced coffee at my local coffee shop, the guy didn’t roll his eyes and snort like he usually does.

3. Dudes showing off their fine carpets of chest hair that they cultivated over the long winter months. Hey, this is New Jersey, you can’t escape that shit.

4. With warm weather comes temper-tantrums! Specifically, shorties freaking out and rolling around the sidewalk because their parents won’t let them stay any longer at the park/playground. Ha ha ha.

5. This happened in my living room today:

Spider vs Girl!

The Flu of Ten Thousand Years

I had a couple of posts I wanted to write, but about 12 days ago I thought it would be an stupendously awesome idea to walk 60 blocks in 15 degree weather from work down to the Jeff VanderMeer reading discussion of his new novel Annihilation at McNally-Jackson in Soho. And that was the end of my sort-of good health, hooray! Since then, I’ve had an ongoing and ever-morphing bout of flu/cold/flu-cold/cold/cough/snot-monster/horking/phizzing/whatthefuckjustcameoutofmythroat. So, yeah, not much done on any front, writing or otherwise.


Remember when I said there was a new infestation in the apartment building? Y’all thought I was probably exaggerating, right? Well, ladies and gentlemen, please introduce yourself to Georgina:


Yep, that’s a grown-ass possum sleeping in our apartment garbage cans. She (or he, I really can’t tell) has been snoozing in them for a couple of weeks now. The super will occasionally come across her when he’s dragging the trash to the curb, and he’ll tip her out and shoo her away, but that’s obviously not enough to stop her from coming back. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this spring, when she gives birth. Because she will, because oh man this apartment building ha ha ha aaaaauuuggggghhhh.

FYI, the thing sort of coming down and wrapping around her is either 1) a downed internet cable or 2) a gigantic biomechanical spider leg. Considering what you know about where I live, I’ll leave it up to you to decide which one it is, but really, seriously, how could it not be #2…

My V-Day Date

Twu Wuv

Shut up. It was either the statue or the possum. We watched scary movies and worked on a fancy wood puzzle. It was nice.

I did see the Royal New Zealand Ballet at the Joyce Theatre, however, so there’s that. Also, I might have spent a few intimate hours with a box of macaroni and cheese and a certain amount of rum, but I’d rather not talk about that. What happens in the shitty ant-covered kitchen stays in the shitty ant-covered kitchen…

A holiday tradition I never tire of

My True Love

Not dead! Yet…

First off: I’d like to welcome the newest infestation to my shithole apartment building. Please give a shout-out to POSSUMS IN THE GARBAGE CANS! Yeah.

Second: I’ve sold three stories so far this year, but sadly cannot relate the details of any of said sales just yet.

Third: Health-wise, I’m doing much better so far this year. Having high blood pressure means I can no longer spend my evenings relaxing on my couch with a bottle of wine in each hand and a bucket of salty foods on my stomach (at least until I’m 85, then I’m going out like a cheese and beer volcano), so I’m actually doing things like eating vegetables and working out and losing weight. Oddly, I feel good. It’s very, very strange.

Four: My short story obligations being finished, I’ll be starting my novel in March. It will be a romantical and wacky tale about the adventures of four three two demon-fucking monster-creating star-crossed college-age frenemies lovers, and if you don’t believe me, please take a look at the photo of my reading list (which you may click to embiggen) below. That is all.

Reading List

Worst. Year. Ever.

Was viciously “restructured” from my job at Wolfram & Hart.
Got a new job – with 1000% more stress.
Had a nice hospital visit – that wasn’t covered by my insurance, incidentally…
Am now in debt up to my fucking eyeballs, and will never pay it off.
Enjoyed the onset of multiple health problems that will last the rest of my life.
Turned 50 this year – another birthday spent completely alone. This time, it really hurt.
Wrote almost nothing. Seriously – I wrote less than 10,000 words.
I still live in the worst apartment in the world.

Goodbye, 2013. I have zero fucks left to give.