charlie huston writes

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charlie huston writes. mostly novels and TV and sometimes comic books and recently a scripted original podcast.  12 of his novels have been published and a new one called CATCHPENNY is on the way. he's currently writing a spec TV pilot called ARCADIA for Tomorrow Studios. his daughter calls it HOT CRIMINAL ISLAND, which is super on the nose. he's also developing a feature based on his first novel CAUGHT STEALING. his books are mostly about people who find themselves in too deep with stolen money or drugs or vampires or spies or the unknowable dangers of the future. he likes that kind of stuff. his TV work is similar. he's developed shows about cleaning up after dead bodies and penal colonies in space and more vampires and dirty cops for HBO, FX, HBO Max, Sony, and FOX.  his original scripted podcast about haunted cassette tapes is being developed for Audible.

the rumors about him? something about him running medical supplies to separatists and how he hid the stuff under bottles of slivovitz wrapped in straw so the border guards would take the plum brandy and never looked deeper? that and the other rumor about a ritual gone wrong. something like he tried to bind an efrieeti to the motor of a 69 Cougar to make a supernatural super charger, but then he mispronounced the third to last syllable of the incantation and got turned into a yellow house finch, and he'll stay that way until he achieves true self knowledge and opens his third eye? both of those rumors may seem like plausible stories to people who know charlie, but they are largely false. another rumor says he just wandered off with a notebook and a ballpoint pen and an old paperback with a creased spine. he had a sandwich and some potato chips and a can of 7-Up. said he'd be home later. that one has a lot of truth in it.
"you can find things if you look for them," someone said he said. "you can find things. look for them," someone said he said. someone. said he said. "find things, someone." he said, "someone find things."

Hi, I'm Charlie Huston. I do sometimes refer to myself in the third person, but only when I feel alienated from myself. It's not you, it's me.
Okay then.
It's 2/5/2024, and I Still Don't Have a Jetpack

The jetpack thing is something people from my generation (generation old) get pissed about. We grew up at the Space Shuttle end of the space race and we were promised jet packs not later than the dawn of the 21st century. We were also promised cool geodesic housing, infinite cheap energy, world peace, a clean planet, and water beds.

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Man, I Just Work Here on December, 10th 2023

I don't even know why I'm trying to write something for this space right now. That sentence you just read? I had to correct four typos before I got to the end of writing it.

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Hello, August 30th 2023. Why so hot?

There's a little prompt on my interface, it says, "Enter your content here." Which reminds me of an encounter I had with someone in the first week or two of the WGA strike (Day 121 in the house!).

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But What's Happening Right Now, at 1:25pm PST on July, 14th 2023?

Well, for one thing, it's Bastille Day! Take that, fucking Monarchists!

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 7

The Prince was still in the commode, and Dudley Lane was wondering if he shouldn’t get up and check on the boy.

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 6

General Jack was yelling for her. What did the boy want now? He’d had some troubling thought no doubt. That was the usual reason he’d be needing her.

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 5

“What the hell is the man doing out there? Etta, come see this. Do you see what I’m looking at? Etta?”

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 4

Tote Sharpe would be damn fucked if he would allow another Lane to rule over this great land. No one could tell him that the reign of Malvern had been anything but a bit of Lane puppetry.

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 3

The Queen could hear his voice, so close and low in her ear, over and over saying the same thing, "Silly woman, you must stop now being so silly." But she couldn’t stop.

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A Book He Started Writing Once: Part 2

The Queen was screaming again. Well, perhaps more accurate to say that the Queen was screaming still.

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A Book He Started Writing Once: part I

Theo was drunk in a whorehouse when he got word that his father was dead.

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A Short Film He Made Once

Pillory agents were everywhere. Yancy could smell them. The waxy, newly minted reek of them was thick, turning her stomach. She seen the insides of one of them once. Back when she'd run the cracked cement of the river with Lack Luster and Envy Phenis.

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Reach out and say hi. I like that kind of thing.