Clever by Half: The Coming Together Series of Alessia Brio

Alessia Brio? Are you reading this? You should be reading this. Somebody go get her.

I want to say thank you to her on behalf of so many of us she has given a chance to, and given us an opportunity to do something we love to do in a way that means something. And while I’m at it I want to thank Lisabet too, for what these two ladies did for me. They gave me a chance. They took me seriously.

I come from a fun and disreputable tradition. My literary heroes were the old pulp fiction writers, names to conjure with like Raymond Chandler, Richard Matheson, Robert E Howard and Ray Bradbury. They wrote one-shot wonders for magazines made from cheap wood chip paper with lurid covers of fair maidens in peril often dressed in brass brassieres and little else. For two bits, a factory worker or school kid could buy a world of stern jawed heroes, plucky heroines, exotic villains, and bloody murders he could roll up and stuff in a lunch box or a jacket pocket. They were written for the common man who had no patience with bullshit or dullness. The old pulp writers had one commandment and one commandment only – Thou Shalt Not Bore Thy Reader.

Thou shalt not bore thy reader, nor thy reader’s children, or thy reader’s servant, or thy readers ox or thy reader’s ass, or bore anything that is thy reader’s, no, no, no. Amen. I think it says that in the Bible somewhere. If it doesn’t it ought to.

The old pulps have died out, but to my way of thinking Alessia Brio has brought them back in her series of Coming Together Anthologies. These are the children of the pulps, the prurient and promiscuous carriers of their DNA with their chocolates box scatter mash of stories by different writers with all their different passions – and different demons. A wise person told me early on, kid, love your inner demons. They only look scary because they’re the guardians of your treasures.

Alessia has taken apprentice writers like me and given us a spotlight where we try out our stuff, and make no mistake, seeing your stuff published in some way or other makes a huge difference in your motivation, even when it’s the stuff you wouldn’t freely show your mother. And not just the wanna-bes like me. Alessia has assembled some of the elite professional writers of this genre and given them a big stage. Think - Rock n Roll Hall of Fame induction concert with the Rolling Stones and Springsteen playing side by side with their fan bands.

There’s a special feeling also in knowing that what you’ve written has also the potential to do good. My anthology of stories over there on the right side bar goes to help RAINN, the Rape and Incest National Network. I chose that partly in honor of one of the characters in that book, Julia Demaso, from the story “Miss Julia’s Cake Club”. That was a hard story to write, and I’m told it’s painful to read, but painful for the right reasons. It bleeds.

I have Remittance Girls Coming Together book, and it rides around in my eReader where I break it out at odd moments. These are stories you won’t find just anywhere. It takes guts to take a chance on them, and Alessia has guts.

I want to encourage you to look at her book series. They are a world of wonders, lovers and troubled souls you can carry in your pocket like the old pulps. They will never waste your time and they will make your heart bigger for reading them.

Lisabet is hosting a Blog Bash on her own web site, celebrating Alessia Brio’s Coming Together project and many of the writers are posting there daily. Lisabet doesn’t often plug her stuff but I will – meet Alessia Brio and the people who write these stories to do good in the world right here:

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/

And as for Alessia, this is the Facebook Page to get acquainted with this great series:

http://www.facebook.com/coming.together#!/erotic.anthology

and the web page and complete catalog (including zombies and . . . tentacle porn??)

http://www.eroticanthology.com/

And you writers reading this, whip it out boys (and girls). If you've got the stuff, you might get lucky.

C. Sanchez-Garcia