Moonflower, Nightshade, All the Hours of the Day
Forthcoming from &NOW Books/Lake Forest College Press in Spring 2020. Distributed through Northwestern University Press. Short story collection.
Winner of the 2018 Madeleine P. Plonsker Prize, selected by Lidia Yuknavitch
The voices in this debut short story collection are motley: shoplifting teens; angels; people of swamps and people of magic-making; a gym bunny who chops down a tree in the Garden of Eden and is later crucified upon it; a metropolitan relationship barely held together by a twenty-year-old chinchilla; a boy coming of age on an Earth where the world exists as a single, interconnected shopping mall; a perfumer who keeps his boyfriend devoted by dosing him with small bits of poison; a worried mother who keeps a wish-object hidden in her house; and a waterlogged brother who returns to his twin sister from the dead.
Many of the stories from this collection appear in print and online magazines and are catalogued on the Fiction page.
Mask for Mask channels something between Tiger Beat magazine, Polari, cryptophasia, hook-up app slang, a LiveJournal, Italo-disco, Bible stories, queer zines, a JRPG, a D&D campaign, and a grimoire. It is a language of queer trials & failures, of shibboleths, of survivorship—and desire—above all else. It the performance of the physical body & the fantasy that goes beyond the limits of embodiment.
Many of the poems from this collection appear in print and online magazines and are catalogued on the Poetry page.
When nineteen-year-old Foster Good’s mother dies, he leaves his life in the Bronx behind to move down south to Florida. It’s in this swampy landscape that he encounters a pack of color-coordinated boys who transform their traumatic pasts into superpowers and their youthful desires into costumed alter-egos. According to the self-identified “cadets,” a prophecy has foretold that a mythic Category 6 hurricane will emerge, decimating the city of Tampa, unless the teenage warriors can defeat someone called the Prism Queen. But when the bodies (and ghosts) of past cadets start to show up, which version of their superhero oral history—their so-called “mission”—can be believed?
Candy Dynamo Gorgeous Cadets is a dark pastiche of nineties cultural phenomena such as Sailor Moon and Power Rangers, told with a flair of fabulism, literary atmosphere, and a poet’s lyricism. It is as much about fantasy as it is about the reality of those who struggle to grow up and figure out what future awaits them on the other side of adolescence. Candy Dynamo Gorgeous Cadets deconstructs “mahou shoujo” and “sentai” series, remixing Japanese pop genre tropes into the subtropic gothic setting of Florida, all while traversing the complex intersections of gender, sexuality, race, and class.
FUNERALS & THRONES
Poetry chapbook. Published. Birds of Lace Press. 2013.
Tarot cards. Ekphrasis. Spells. Rituals. Magicians. Angels. Bedrooms. Beds. Erotica. Sexuality. Fantasy. Queerness. Parables. Occult. Violence. Endurance. Funerals. Thrones.
“Like a tarot-reading Oblomov wallowing in his bed for forty pages, and not even doing most of the fun things that can be done in a bed, Scott knows that he ought to pull himself together—he can see the reasons for it—but he is in love with inertia. Inspiration leads to depletion. This is his curse and his cross to bear. ‘An unmade bed is an unaccounted sin,’ as he says in the opening poem, ‘Moirai Effect.’ It should be clear that this is very far from other bedroom poetries of the past, from the fuck-the-world-away boudoir lyrics of the English tradition to the grimly exhibitionistic verse of the second half of the twentieth century. As the chapbook’s title, Funerals & Thrones, suggests, Scott’s poems owe much more to the world of fantasy and theology (Thrones are a class of powerful angels), and to Scott’s own ideas around rituals of power.” —Erik Kennedy for Sabotage Reviews
Poetry chapbook. Published. YellowJacket Press. 2012.
Winner of the 2012 Peter Meinke Prize for Poetry
Night Errands is a Floridian hymn and a celebration of place; it is a nocturne to migrations; a song of geography; a study of what it means to leave a home.
“Its poems seem to have an enchanting Southern normalcy to them. The familiar sense that emanates from them is often improbably beautiful, shining within them like shards of broken glass. If you would like to infer from my words something ominous, wolf-like lurking, it is fair to say “yes”, but we never see its face. Instead, we hear its trickster voice, and it leaves an echo that draws us back, warmly, like our own fearsome, bloody mortality.” —Penny for The Two Keys Press Review