February 2012
3 posts
UP (eds. Carolyn DeCarlo & Ras. Mashramani)
My Restlessness Never Dies When It Rains. Janey Smith.
HTMLGIANT (eds. Janice Lee & Blake Butler)
A review of Heavy Feather Review. Janey Smith.
ILK Journal (eds. Caroline Crew & Chris Emslie)
Caribou & The Wall Vanishes. Janey Smith.
January 2012
2 posts
New Wave Vomit (ed. Ana C.)
Heather Tried to Figure Out How Many Times She’d Taken a Shit in Her Life. Janey Smith.
Live at 851: Lonely Christopher, Keely Hyslop,...
Thursday, February 23, 2012, 7:30PM
December 2011
2 posts
Live at 851: Mike Young, Mike Kitchell, Janey...
December 27, 2011
Happy Dog Mom Litjournal (eds. ????)
Excerpts.
November 2011
2 posts
LIES/ISLE (ed. Mike Kitchell)
from The Little Book of Fascism. Mike Buffalo.
Red Lightbulbs (eds. Meghan Lamb & Russ Februaryy)...
All These Snowflakes Are Exactly Alike. Janey Smith.
October 2011
1 post
Housefire (ed. Riley Michael Parker)
The Marks They Made. Janey Smith.
September 2011
3 posts
Mud Luscious 17 (eds. J. A. Tyler & Andrew...
The Heavy, Orange Book of Paintings by Ingres. Janey Smith.
August 2011
1 post
Nouns of Assemblage (ed. Riley Michael Parker)
A story of mine appears in the book Nouns of Assemblage, edited by Riley Michael Parker. But first, a commercial.
July 2011
1 post
June 2011
4 posts
HTMLGIANT (ed. Blake Butler)
Three reviews. Janey Smith.
Who is Emji?
The simplest kinds of problems in navigation involve nothing more than finding a way to diminish the distance between oneself and another person.
Until the Light Takes Us
I will be here.
This is the day.
Such is the happy position you see me in, my friends; I have a furious fondness for crime, I would not dream of pretending otherwise; crime, and nothing else, irritates my senses, I shall go on professing its maxims down to my dying hour. Exempt from all religious dreads, able, by discreet procedures and my wealth, to avoid difficulties with the law, what is the power, human or divine, that...
May 2011
2 posts
Dogzplot (ed. Barry Graham)
A little story. Janey Smith.
Who is Chloe'?
Before the eye begins to move, it knows where it is going.
April 2011
4 posts
Bruce
“A zombie is a small yellow flower.”
Death In Conversation
“Your eyes have returned from an arbitrary country where no one has even known the meaning of a glance. Glances, words. Everything moves. One need only advance to live to go straight ahead towards all that you love. I was moving towards you. I was moving perpetually into the light.”
New Wave Vomit (ed. Ana C.)
We Like Speed. Janey Smith.
March 2011
4 posts
Impulsive
I wonder what I’m going to look like when I get old. Sometimes I like to look at photographs of old people, imagine what their sex lives are like, wonder if they have sex anymore? Sometimes I imagine what they did when they were young. Like, I imagine they did some crazy stuff that nobody knows about, but that they always keep with them in case someone asks. Or maybe, even if asked, they...
Nervous
I do that a lot. Stand around, nervous. Like, today. I woke up, thought about that one girl, was super nervous. Wondered about life. Got up, sat there, stared. I think I ate breakfast. It had a banana in it. Not much else, maybe. Then I was like, “What do I do now?” I didn’t know what to do—so I stared a lot.
I wanted to call somebody on the phone. But, I couldn’t...
HOUSEFIRE (ed. Riley Michael Parker)
Two Interviews. Janey Smith.
My memories may be found on Google Image Search
My memories are on Google Image Search.
I typed “my memories” on Google Image Search. I found all of my memories there. It’s nice to know they have them.
I wanted to walk home again like I did that one night. But, I can only remember parts of it, which means I am limited to what I can see and feel. So, I searched for that memory on Google Image Search. And I found it. Also a...
December 2010
4 posts
Janey Smith is not a writer.
Janey Smith’s collection of stories Very Ape, will be published someday soon. Promise.
The title of Janey Smith’s collection of stories is taken from the title of a song by rock band Nirvana. Nirvana liked to make music that rocked. They sang songs, played guitars, beat on a drum. Then everybody listened. “What’s that?” “I don’t know, do you want to...
November 2010
2 posts
BLIP (ed. Meg Pokrass)
Rabbit Moon. Janey Smith.
Lamination Colony (ed. Blake Butler)
Total Retard (Or How To Run A Successful Home School). Janey Smith.
October 2010
2 posts
Shelley Duvall
I knew my grandma would be waking up and I still wanted him to stay with me so I strangled him … I brought him up to the bedroom and pretended he was still alive.
I took the knife and the scalp part off and peeled the flesh off the bone and kept the skull and the scalp … If I could have kept him longer, all of him, I would have.
I separated the joints, the arm joints, the leg...
Dash Snow
For his face is smeared and dusted all over with marble powder so that he looks like a baker,
and he is completely covered with little chips of marble, so that it seems as if his back had been snowed on;
and his house is full of splinters of stone and dust.—Leonardo Da Vinci
September 2010
4 posts
Anonymous
On the one hand, in effect, emancipatory politics is essentially the politics of the anonymous masses; it is the victory of those with no names, of those who are held in a state of colossal insignificance by large corporations and the capitalist state—Alain Badiou, The Communist Hypothesis, 2010.
There is no rational answer to “so what.”—Vladimir Nabokov, Lectures On...
White Trash
There is no hope, really. And that’s okay. Because there are so many things. What’s neat about things is that they are there. Even when they are not doing anything, things are intense. Especially, at night.
If you stare at things long enough, like, when you are in your room, you can sometimes see things, see things that are not there. This makes things hopeful. Even if you...
Control
I am little. I exercise control by freezing myself. If I want a certain outcome, I stay still. “Things are going well. Don’t move.” But, then, sometimes things didn’t go so well. So, I think “Maybe I should move.”
It’s complex. Sometimes, I think if I move, things will change. In a bad way. So, I freeze. I don’t know why. I just know that...
I wish I were a dictionary.
I think it would be neat to be a dictionary. I saw a dictionary in Brentano’s once, it was twenty-six volumes long. It took up an entire wall. I think I tried to look up a word or something, to see what it was like. I got confused. It felt like I was under an ocean, like under the Pacific, where it’s not as scary.
It would be nice for humanity if when you were born your parents...
August 2010
4 posts
Andy Warhol's Interview Magazine
Janey Smith has been interviewed three times.
The first interview aired April 23, 2009, with Sam Pink (picture, left) on the early internet show HTMLGIANT.
The second interview aired on the underground television network Big Other on June 27, 2010, and featured Keith Nathan Brown (picture, far right) visibly high on marijuana and other things.
The third interview aired nationally on...
My mirror, my computer screen.
My computer screen is neat. It’s like a mirror. I stare at it. I feel like I’m looking at myself. Sometimes, I forget. So, I look really hard. When I find myself I think “There I am.” Then, the magic happens. I see myself everywhere. It’s nice to see me everywhere. There’s nothing I like better.
When I don’t know what to do, which is most of the time, I...
My room is letter 'C'.
My bedroom walls are blue.
I like to read books.
I want to change the world.
Revolution now.
My mom is here.
My mom is a mom. She takes me to the park. I walk around, meet new people. The sky is always blue. I forget where I am. She says “Stevie.” And I find her again. I hold her hand. We walk to the car. She takes me to the beach. We eat tuna fish sandwiches and chips. We drink Pepsi. I walk around, count the lifeguard stations, study seashells. Then I wander along the beach, forget where I...
July 2010
12 posts
The telephone is my life.
It’s nice to talk to people on the telephone. Sometimes, when I have nothing to do, I’ll call somebody on the telephone. My friend will say “Hey.” And I’ll say “Hey.” And then I’ll just sit there. And my friend will say “What.” And I’ll just sit there. And then some time will go by. My friend will say “Did you see that?”...
Steven Trull is a writer.
The title of Steven Trull’s unfinished novel is Stare.
The title of Steven Trull’s unfinished novel is informed by the paintings of artist Jenny Saville. Jenny Saville likes to make paintings that almost appear to be made of rotten meat. Jenny Saville uses a lot of rotten meat colors in her paintings. She uses crude, porous colors, scabby brush strokes and formaldehyde-coated canvas...
I am a copy machine.
I don’t know how to write. When I want to write things, I think. And nothing comes to mind. So, I copy. Books, television, movies, music, anything. I like poetry the best. It’s like all the writing was done for me. To copy. Plus, it’s easy to find little things, parts of poems, not the whole thing, and use them to make stories or to add to stories, which is nice. Because so much...
My room is letter 'B'.
My ex-boyfriend and I pretend we are Georges Bataille and Laure. I’m Georges Bataille. My ex-boyfriend is Laure. I say “Laure, sit.” My ex-boyfriend sits. I say “Pull down your pants.” My ex-boyfriend says “I have to piss.” “Piss here.” My ex-boyfriend looks at me, tries to piss, goes blank. I look around, then look at my ex-boyfriend, get down...
My grandfather is dead.
My grandfather is vice president corporate executive officer for Tishman Construction. He works in an office on the seventy-second floor of a building. My mom takes me to visit him. I lean against the glass wall of the office. Below me, a big hole in the dirt: Century City Plaza. Tall building, big hole. I feel a tingle in my tummy. My grandfather looks like Fred Astaire.
My grandfather smokes...