Favorite Place to Write:
In my head wherever I am.
Favorite Place to Read:
At home on the couch or in a hammock in our garden.
Best time of day to write:
Early morning right after I get up.
writer, ex-particle physicist, professor, executive coach, project lead, web head, father, fictionaut, former fencer and paratrooper, current maitre d' of kaffe in katmandu, curator of the 1000 shipwrecked penguins project and participant of 100 Days 2011, who lives in Berlin, Prenzlauer Berg and blogs at http://marcusspeh.com/. Here are some things people have said about my work (the stories are included in my preview of "House of Worship", my collected flash fiction, on this site:
Speh drives flash fiction like it’s a vintage Alfa Romeo, knowing always how to handle the gearshift because he’s so comfy in the bucket seat. He never crashes.— Katrina Gray on “Before the Bloodbath” (in: Atticus Review vol 1 (3), 31/05/2011)
Your prose is like thread unrolling from a spool, long sentences that rise and fall into each other.…there is never that jarring sound of effortful writing. But man, so many surprises and delights here. And so much sad truth.— Kathy Fish, author of 'Wild Life', on “Tickled Pink” (Metazen 06/2009).
The story is as wild and cyclical and organic as the title would suggest. Boundaries between animal and human, self and other, body and dream, writer and world shift and merge and occasionally dissolve altogether.—Amber Sparks in her review of “Rites of Spring” (kill author 06/2010)
«As a boy, I often laid in my bed and stared through a hole in the ceiling at the ceiling of the apartment above us where a Viking woman lived. The raw idiom in which she summoned her gods seemed funny to my callow youth, even though we weren’t Christians. When I met her on the stairs, I focused on her freckles, which, I imagined, ran over her neck and shoulders, across the thin skin of her sternum towards her nipples as if they were insects following a sugar track, and who suddenly stood in front of a red, round temple on whose high roof’s middle an opening lead deep down to the place where we all come from and where we all want to get back to. I saw myself with many women then: one for every aspect of humanity, all of them satisfied to be near me, to experience my expert touch. I was a geyser of horniness, spilling my seed freely, seeking fraternity and fertility. Such were my fantasies before I grew up and lost my savvy once and for all like a mute seer, who must go on singing even though he’s long lost his tongue. » (from: Romancing My Youth, published in Wilderness House Literary Review 6.2.)
Marcus Speh's Manuscripts
Marcus Speh's Last Word
|What are you reading?||Conversation||107||1 year 12 weeks ago|
|Thank You For Your Sperm||Conversation||0||1 year 16 weeks ago|
|What are you reading?||Conversation||85||1 year 26 weeks ago|
|Chapter One||Chapter||42||2 years 17 weeks ago|
|What do you do for a living?||Conversation||51||2 years 23 weeks ago|
|The Book of Old Wounds||Chapter||17||2 years 23 weeks ago|
|The Serious Writer Occupies Wall Street||Chapter||6||2 years 26 weeks ago|
|Older (45 and up) Writers||Conversation||17||2 years 27 weeks ago|
|Interview at GALO magazine with Tim Young||Conversation||1||2 years 28 weeks ago|
|Worst Fear||Conversation||29||2 years 28 weeks ago|