Got contributor copies of the new HARPUR PALATE today, they printed my story TOUR OF THE DROWNED NEIGHBORHOOD, another from SCORCH ATLAS, using caps makes UNIT ACHE in a good way. The issue's gots good folks like T.J. Forrester, Jacob Appel, Denise Duhamel, a lot of new names to me, new names, my eyes are, mm, this is the story that FAULTLINE tried to BOINK IN THE REAR and yet here it is printed INTACT AND FULL DELICIOUSLESSNESSLY. IT'S FOR SALE NOW.
I started a new novel two days ago, it is called RICKY'S ANUS, it is about Ricky and his body parts and his mother and his mother's house. It is aggressive in tone and mostly of dream logic and nasty emo violence and it is probably already on the verge of if not completely unpublishable in a normative sense except by someone of grand vision, though it has narrative and is very sexy, I don't care. I am already having the most fun writing I have had in years writing this thing, making yourself laugh is good, for more than a week I had just been sitting staring at the keyboard wanting to throw up on it and now I am throwing up into it, but it feels like new throw up and anyway it is making my eyes bulge, RICKY'S ANUS is going to explode, I like to talk out loud to myself about RICKY'S ANUS, I feel good about it, it fulfills what Wallace was calling for in his essay THE NATURE OF THE FUN, to write from a place that you enjoy, because that is why you started writing in the first place, thank you brother Markus for reminding me to reread that essay.
It is a long way in the future, but I am going to be reading at the Quickies! reading series in Chicago on February 12 during AWP, with Peter Markus (thank you again P), Robert Lopez, Brian Evenson, Kim Chinquee, and Janet Desaulniers. I will wear my pee pants to that one, I will be crying in my under life before I get there and going apeshit in my banana yard as I pretend I have any business among all that wonder.
Looks like No Colony is going to have an AWP table split with NOO Journal and Publishing Genius, we are getting our dunk tank together and a couple of shorties to shred black metal riffs on pedestals behind our table, if not that then at least we will be loud and drunk and have something sickening happening, I suggested to Adam Robinson I dress up as Gordon Lish and sign books and Adam said he would dress up as Ray Carver and sign books and I could cross out his signature and make mine on top of it, regardless, we will have our Shenises on (have you seen this shenis?) and things will happen requiring great intestinal fortitude of our aisle mates, who will hopefully be the Paris Review and like Poetry magazine (does Poetry go to that shit, aren't they building a warhead)?
I really like this: Soak Up The Sun by Dmitry Yegorov on elimae.
When will Peter Berghoef have a book the size of my face, I want to read it, Peter B you are smart.