All right, the Sox are beating up on Baltimore. Way to go, guys. With the O's bullpen, it's a little like beating a newborn in an arm-wrestling match then celebrating afterwards.
I am, however, going to briefly step out of my role as an imaginary sportswriter (if you're jonesing for a Graziano sports fix, I have a new article on Slurve Magazine here) and don the garbs of a literary man, the type of guy who scratches his chin and wears blazers and boat shoes.
A veritable shitload of my writing has been published in a number of on-line journals this week, starting with a flash fiction piece titled "The New Girl" in one of my favorite literary journals, Night Train. The couple in this piece is revisited in a short story titled "My Husband, Houdini" on a really nice-looking new on-line journal called Bananafish, I'm assuming after the Salinger masterpiece. Mark and Lisa, the dysfunctional couple in these stories, can also be found in the archives of The Trailer Park Quarterly with "The Man of the House" and in annals of Night Train again with "Almost Christmas" and "Moon Walk."
I know, that's a lot to take in. But if you have some time to kill, it'll give you some reading material to check out on your new iPad, you hipster.
I also had poems appear in both the print version and on-line edition of Verse Wisconsin. Check out my poem "Elizabeth Graziano" here.
There you go, folks, an entire afternoon's worth of Nate Graziano for you. Caution: in certain tests, Nate Graziano's writing has been known to cause cramping, vomiting, rectal bleeding, dizziness, shortness of breath, irrational anger, headaches, and flatulence. If you have an erection lasting more than three hours, seek immediate medical attention.