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Brendan McKennedy


I wish I'd developed a genuine Southern accent in the four years I lived in Tennessee. I tried. I kind of pushed it along and sometimes even picked up some momentum, so that my long I's and short A's started to twang on their own. But last year my life took some hard turns and I packed up my books and CDs and banged-up blue resonator guitar and drove away from Nashville before the roots of any drawl could take. Now I'm back home in the suburbs of Northern Virginia where there is no extant native accent, just old friends and heavy traffic. Sometimes I affect a "fixin to" or "might could" for my own pleasure.

I like acoustic blues and twangy music of all kinds, and the writing of Ian Frazier and Richard Brautigan. I've had a few stories on the web in the last few years, most notably at McSweeney's and here at Conversely. I'm working on a novel, and have a million other intriguing and half-baked projects lined up. You can drop me a line at brendanmck@earthlink.net.

Brendan McKennedy's writing on Conversely

Listed from the most recent.

Two Fish
I never tell you about my dreams. Well that says it all, doesn't it, said Norah. I mean, that about wraps it up. Date: 03/1/04

This and That
I deserted her at a filling station. I sat for a few minutes gnawing the sides of my tongue, then pulled away fast. Date: 05/1/02



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