My audiobook narration for Chris Tarry’s award-winning short story collection HOW TO CARRY BIGFOOT HOME is available.
It is a collection of beautiful, funny, bittersweet, and (in the case of one of them) Pushcart-nominated tales for adults. It was a fantastically fun project to work on.
Please be so kind as to check it out on Amazon.com, Audible.com and (coming soon) to iTunes.
(Setting: My house, as the wife spots the now semi-empty steel can we’ve been using to collect bacon grease.)
THE WIFE– What happened to all the bacon grease?
ME– I threw it away in the trash.
THE WIFE– Why didn’t you just throw away the whole can?
ME– So I could reuse the can for more bacon grease. And so I wouldn’t have to throw away a can.
THE WIFE– You are officially the Recycling Nazi.
ME– I prefer “Recycling Fascist.”
THE WIFE– (Coming over to tickle me) More like “Recycling Fat-scist.”
(Pass the bacon, y’all.)
Eric is making signing and speaking appearances to promote A Consternation of Monsters. (He also occasionally does some acting.) You’ll find those appearances and roles here.
February 7-9, 2019 — Eric’s short play “Aye Do” will be featured as part of Greenbrier Valley Theatre‘s GVT Play Fest. The decision to settle down can be tough for some, but when you’re a hardened Pirate Captain living a rich life of high-seas adventure filled with “ya harrs” and “yo hos” and pillaging yachts of Wells Fargo executives, it can be downright vexing. Until one destiny-altering, magical moonlit walk on a beach sets the wedding bells a-ringin’. But will his first mate get him to the church on time or talk him out of a journey fraught with perils and potential doom? Johnny Depp, beware! A 10 minute sea-faring romantic comedy about growing up. And pirates.
(Setting: our living room, as the end credits roll on our six-month-old DVRed copy of JUSTICE LEAGUE, a movie which I have only now finally got around to watching and which my wife has only now finally got around to reading a book during, punctuated by long stretches of looking over the edge of her iPad to stare at Jason Mamoa as Aquaman, a little drool running out of the edge of her mouth.)
ME— Huh. Well, as not great as that movie was, it was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be.
THE WIFE— (grinning) Isn’t there a movie with just Aquaman in it?
ME—Yes. It’s called “Aquaman.” And it is in theaters now.
THE WIFE— (Giggles) I would go see that. (Sly grin.) Maybe they’ll have more scenes of him drinking and stomping around.
ME—(Stunned) You liked that, huh?
THE WIFE—(Beaming) Uh huh!
ME—You are a puzzle I will never solve. When I drink and stomp around you say I’m an alcoholic.
THE WIFE—Yeah, but I have to live with you.
(Cut to the following evening, as we emerge from the local cinemaplex having viewed all 2 hours and 22 minutes of Aquaman.)
THE WIFE— That was a terrible movie
THE WIFE— But Jason Mamoa was pretty.
ME— He was prettier than Amber Heard and her clown wig.