Alberto Yáñez is a writer of fantasies, poetry, and essays on justice, agency and art, pop culture, and the absurdity of life. With the eye of a natural editor, he’s also a photographer with a documentarian’s approach to taking pictures.
“Recognizing Gabe” is up for Best PodCastle Story of 2012
“Recognizing Gabe: un cuento de hadas” is in the final round of audience polling for Best PodCastle Story of 2012. I am astonished and utterly delighted. Go vote! Listen to all the stories–they’re all good. Wow. I love the story, so … Continue reading
Thanks, Jodie Foster: I’m a little less lonely. I hope you are, too.
I caught Jodie Foster’s acceptance speech for the Cecil B. DeMille at the Golden Globes, and thought it was magnificent. It wasn’t perfect, but it was grandly eloquent, a bit righteous, and a lot truthful. It was a cri de cœur, … Continue reading
Listening to people criticize your baby
“Recognizing Gabe” has been up at PodCastle for over a week now, and so has its discussion thread in the PodCastle Forum. As a writer, one of the things you want to know is whether people get your story or not. Do … Continue reading
Recognizing Gabe up at PodCastle
PodCastle has reprinted “Recognizing Gabe: un cuento de hadas” as a podcast. I’m really excited that they decided to publish this as their Thanksgiving episode. I’m thankful for their support for the story. Go listen! Leave them a comment and tell … Continue reading
Recent Work
MoreDriving for Peanuts
It took four of them to drive the rig, plus Bobo to steer.
Petey handled the clutch, Lulu was on brakes and gas, Jojo took care of shifting gears, and Alice ran relief for the other three and mostly told them what to do. Bobo steered, of course, since he had enough upper-body strength to turn the wheel, and with the booster seat could see over the dash. He was a chimp, but the rest of the crew tried not to hold it against him.
Recognizing Gabe: un cuento de hadas
When I was twelve, my hada madrina came to visit. My fairy godmother hadn’t come to see us since my baptism, so I didn’t even know her except from the stories, like the one about cousin Tomasita and the goat who could play fútbol.
