TKENDALL

The Bookworm's Rules | Reading advice from Michael Silverblatt biblioklept.org/2026/02/16/t...

Thomas Kendall’s How I Killed the Universal Man (Book acquired, 23 Jan. 2026) I started Thomas Kendall’s second novel, How I Killed the Universal Man last night. Good stuff so far. Blurb from publisher Whisk(e)y Tit: John Lakerman, alternative current affairs journalis…

Thomas Kendall's How I Killed the Universal Man (Book acquired, 23 Jan. 2026) biblioklept.org/2026/01/29/t...

The Brackish Pool: Towards a Critical Practice of Reading Weird Fiction The ideal reader of the weird has to embrace a kind of wilful suspension of foreknowledge or generic expectation.

And then the first of our essays: the inestimable @megapolisomancy.bsky.social on (what else?) the weird.

What is really striking about this piece is the way in which it advocates for critical reading as productive practice, for "weird reading as a way of thinking critically about the world."

open.substack.com/pub/thomaskend…

It was really awesome to work on this piece and learn about weird fiction from the best person to learn from about weird fiction!

Excerpt Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves. Joy walks past Bin-bags huddled like dropped fruit across the street.

substack.com/@thomaskenda...

Excerpt Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves. Joy walks past Bin-bags huddled like dropped fruit across the street.

substack.com/@thomaskenda...

SFULTRA #37 - Red Hook Variations | SFULTRA Get more from SFULTRA on Patreon

Join me and, eventually, @ckunzelman.bsky.social for the new episode of SFULTRA, the antagonistic SF podcast most favoured by formless spawn who dwell in N'kai, 'neath the ruins of Yoth. After some general Lovecraft thoughts, focus settles on Alan Moore's Providence. www.patreon.com/posts/sfultr...

Many thanks to @sd-stewart.bsky.social for putting down some (very astute and kind) thoughts on 'The Veldt Institute' and to HFR for hosting!

Reading Weird Fiction in an Age of Fascism Zachary Gillan I have been thinking, for obvious reasons, about living in a world of reactionary politics, and about the political valences of the irreal, and about ARB’s insistence upon the radica…

If anyone is looking for something to recommend for any awards you might be associated with, "Reading Weird Fiction in an Age of Fascism" by Zachary Gillan @megapolisomancy.bsky.social deserves all the awards. Essential reading.

ancillaryreviewofbooks.org/2025/05/02/r...

Soldier's Heart (an oral history of the burnings) (86,101)

substack.com/@thomaskenda...

🤣

ergot. innovative + experimental horror

"We are watching a slasher movie...We are young and drunk and animated by indiscriminate libidos. We are laughing at the kills. We are scrolling on our phones. We are discreetly touching each other beneath our clothes."

Today on ergot.: "Slasher" by Samantha Barrett

www.ergot.press/authors/Sama...

This is great

Honoured to have’The Autodidacts’ included in this list by @matthewkinlin.bsky.social alongside Kevin Killian and other great contemporary writers

Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves Work In Progress: Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves

open.substack.com/pub/thomaske...

Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves Work In Progress: Of Course Gods Talk To Themselves

open.substack.com/pub/thomaske...

Never heard this guy before and now super excited to listen to everything

Thomas Kendall at Black Spring Books, Brooklyn reading from “How I Killed the Universal Man.” @whiskeytit.com

Thank you so much!

met with fresh joy in a field mostly hay yellow but with one lone patch of green this toddler ranges towards. Vincent feels as if he is watching a VHS home movie. As if a ready made aura, an aesthetic of nostalgia, had already intervened on behalf of intimacy to spare its exposure

a wasted pace, limbs hampered by a lack of control but still approaching the velocity of abandon.

Vincent follows the cut-string run of the toddler as they tilt towards the afternoon light, a golden bodied expression of life experiencing itself, a world and a mind unfolding upon a mind and a world,

The child is ready to try again. Vincent refocuses. This time the toddler is up and gearing to run, elbows chicken-winged and rubbing against the kindling of their body, feet paddling on the spot, gleeful for speed, and then they are off in an elastic explosion, a frustrated will,

I could beat up a million babies. Vincent almost laughs at the idea, sees himself rampaging through an American football field full of infants with absurdly large shoulder pads.

He wishes everything was tone and resonance and description a total conceptual impossibility. Like colours and shapes. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend reality was communicable

Like the body was a restraint required to experience the materiality of space and space was like ‘oh fuck your body.’ Or like the body was to life what a bed sheet with cutout holes for eyes and animated by some mournful desire for attention was to the idea of death.

The rain arrives, reducing everything to shape and colour. The windscreen fogging like a cataract though the effects are far more malevolent than anything those dainty handed impressionists thought to so sentimentally beautify.

She’s aware this is not a new thought but it feels generically true even if, like, equal rights for parasites?

This organism, the intelligent rage of life, assembling itself without the ecstasy of conception. A pure mutant born of loveless turmoil. If the world did have a consciousness humans would basically be parasites, Joy thinks.