Reviews

From the Music and the Spires purchasing page:

Reading CE Alexander’s work is like walking through a beautiful, but dense forest. Being a reader of mostly YA fiction, The Music and the Spires is quite a change. While the plot and settings are sometimes not obvious, you can’t help but be completely drawn into the characters. While my brain worked out what was happening in each story, my heart fell in love with Magsa, the kids in Les Wodr, and dear Annette. A beautifully written work of fiction. Looking forward to Alexander’s next offering!

Thank you, Britt!

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“Trapeze Disrobing Act,” by Thomas Edison

We’re hard at work on Alexander’s next book trailer (after months of hand-wringing, we finally released our promotional film for The music and the spires last week). The forthcoming trailer will promote three short stories, published individually on Kindle: Book of Constants, Bar Juchne and My Wounded Specular.

This brief Edison clip–depicting a lively, if nonscandalous trapeze tease–kept turning up in our search for footage. We took that as a sign.

Look for Book of Constants to publish on June 16, via Kindle Direct.

“Ledabella,” by William Ryan Fritch

Earlier this year we commissioned a previously-unreleased track from Wiliam Ryan Fritch, who records under Vieo Abiungo, Settled Scores, and his given name. The composition is truly stunning. It is named “Ledabella” after one of the characters of The Music and The Spires. Ledabella is a young girl who finds a long-drowned neighborhood exposed by drought. As the water continues to recede, she braves deeper explorations into this forgotten neighborhood, and into her own.

Get to know the music of William Ryan Fritch. His accomplishments here–and in the world of film and traditional album releases–are remarkable.

Sundries

Credits

When the day job beckons and you can’t fit in your blogging, let it all pile up and then–when the stack finally tips over–call it a newsletter. That being said, file this one under “May.”

First, C.E. Alexander’s The Music and The Spires is available for $0.99, wherever fine ebooks are sold. Purchasing links include AmazonBarnes & NobleKobo BooksCopia and eSentral.  That’s 0.0083 bitcoins per spire.  (Notre Dame only has one spire, by the way.  Read the book if you don’t know what Notre Dame has to do with anything.)

Next, and speaking of Zidi publications that don’t cross the one-dollar threshold, C.E. Alexander’s Kindle-only Book of Constants is still on for its June 16 release. Take a look at the cover here, and read some background here.

As for The Music and The Spires book trailer? It’s a bit late in the game to keep talking about a May 1 release. But it will be soon. We’re talking hours, now, not days. The trailer features a remarkable new composition by William Ryan Fritch and some found footage by various, turn-of-century video tinkerers. While you wait can we offer a mango-peach smoothie or some Dallas re-runs?

Finally, C.E. Alexander just completed his interview of Lucille Redmond over at Fluid Radio. In March 2012, Redmond published Love (stories of love, Ireland, sex, sea, snow and money). It is excellent reading throughout.

And what’s with the two guys at the top of page? Not telling. Yet.

Reviews

Dave K. writes in with more remarks on C.E. Alexander’s collection of short stories The Music and the Spires. Buy here. Read more here.

Been reading some more. “Vibrant” was so wonderfully creepy. Nightmarish…. And Radio Wind is a great phrase (one I’m sorely tempted to appropriate). I have to read it again, I think there are things I missed–especially in the relationship between Bleibtreu and the guard.

Loved “Dogs and Baghdad”–maybe my favorite so far. At first I was kind of startled with the straight real world setting, but there’s still this sense of unreality permeating everything. Like the way everything is somehow mediated–the body painting through video, the conversations with Goose through translation, even the way that the feeding of the owl was somehow weirded out by the naming of the mice…. And then of course, that damn televised invisible war is hanging over everything. The story reminded me of good collage–with elements working together to produce a feeling rather than a thought. Did you ever see any of Rauschenberg’s combines? Some of them (like Odalisque, and Bed, and even Monogram) are kind of stunts, but some of them–Canyon for instance–are amazing. Very sad. And profound without being pretentious–which is something people don’t even try anymore. Anyway, I’m digging the book.