I've just turned in the material for "Used Stories," a chapbook Subterranean Press will be using as a giveaway promo item when you preorder two of their books. (Subterranean's site seems to be in upheaval and I cannot currently find information on this project, but I know it existed at some point and will surely return, so keep checking back if you're interested.) The book consists of five stories I've not included in any of my collections for various reasons: "Toxic Wastrels," "Homewrecker," "Essence of Rose," "Nailed," and "The Goose Girl." I have mixed feelings about this project, since I mostly left these stories out of my collections because I just didn't like them any more. On the other hand, I frequently get letters and e-mails from people wanting to know when the missing stories will be collected, and if they won't be collected, where they can buy the anthologies in which the work originally appeared, and if those aren't available, would I consider just selling them a printout of the story in question? I understand the urge toward completism, though I don't think I am a completist about anything these days. Am I? Hmmm ... well, I do feel compelled to buy every volume of THE COMPLETE CRUMB, but not to seek out rare and expensive actual copies of Zap, Motor City, etc. So I'm a semi-completist.

And on the other other hand, there are also stories in my collections that I no longer especially like: "His Mouth Will Taste of Wormwood," "The Ocean," much of ARE YOU LOATHSOME TONIGHT?. No writer is the best judge of his own work -- though I submit that we are at least better judges of it than those pinheaded readers who wish we'd keep doing the same thing over and over again "because that's what you're good at" -- and continuing to make certain work unavailable just because I don't care for it gives me an ungenerous prima-donna feeling.

Any any rate, I hope the chapbook's title and cover art (a drawing of me sitting on a trunk holding open a trenchcoat, the lining of which is filled with copies of the five stories, rather like the proverbial seedy guy on the streetcorner who tries to sell you a "designer" watch) will alert readers that, while I am willing to make this work available for them what wants it, I'm not particularly proud of it.