Home. Feel kind of crazy, vanfever, vanced. I seriously think I gained 10 pounds in beer, booze, and tacos, as well as doughnuts, whiskey, and 3 am FEED ME shit. Simultaneously missing my Dollar Store freaks and glad to be home getting my run on, drinking water, home. Home.
Was pretty amazed at the quality and size of crowds that came out to the shows, I had been expecting many nights of slim pickins, but almost every night there was a nearly full house. Thanks to everyone who came out said hello bought books bought drinks got crunk, I really don't think it could have gone better than it did.
I'd like to post more about more cities following the first half but I don't think I have the head for this right now. Let me try.
In the van I read
Degenerescence by James Chapman
Jerusalem by Goncalo M. Tavares
Ray of the Star by Laird Hunt
God Jr. by Dennis Cooper
Death Sentence by Maurice Blanchot
Home friends, swimming in warm light, destroying several copies of Scorch Atlas in the street outside the show, setting them on fire, punching, jumpkicking, throwing copies under cars (one guy got out and looked to see if running over the book had fucked his shit, he didn't realize it really had, a baby is now in the gastank) (preordered copies of SA (option coming soon) will have the option of coming all beat up by hand), read drunk in front of my parents, said titties a lot probably, took the crew to the Clermont for weird strippers and more beer, actually got stopped by a cop driving home at 3 am which made my van-lidded heart go wah, but dat girl just said g'on.
Another long delirious haul, though I already miss the van under my butt, I think it was on the road to there that we ate at a middle school mixed with a old folks home that I laughed at, then got goodfed on ham and scramp and chickens, in day of Balitmore we went to the BMA and saw some like, contemporary sheeit, a woman who had handdrawn exact copies of pages from Proust book, fucking nuts, we went to a corner store and asked for 'the largest bottle of liquor you have,' bought 6 20ozs of Coke and poured them half off, drank most of that before the show even started, minus a couple cups we handed to some young entrepreneurs who saw us drinking and hurried to McDonald's so they could have some cups to get a swig of our drank. This might have been the most fun of all the readings, everyone was electrical and powered up, we proceeded to more fun rooms and hanging and everyone was so nice, and everyone was.
In New York:
Ate sushi dinner with Derek and Jess, tried sushi I had never tried and really enjoyed, showed up at the club for $9 jack and cokes and a house full of rad friends, talked some shit, said the hello, ate the pizza, had a cab decision, got my ass handed to me shooting pool against a hustla, I think Aaron hit top party level this evening while wearing a Mormon style backpack, Aaron is now named Snack Pack, understand. NYC went so fast it felt like, we could have used at least another day or two, bonus cash. In van next day I read a draft of Amelia's forthcoming FC2 and my brain went holy shit magic lives. The van the van the van. Friendses.
Went to Mutter museum of oddities, saw some cleft babies and ruined organs, basked in light, read at a large bar for many more friends, finally met Lee Klein who I think was my first ever internet-land book-related connective tissue bit, Lee was a kind and smiling man, I think the room went still after I made an Anne Frank joke, we opened for a transvestite named Needles who did a cover set of Nico songs more sniffing than singing, looked like somebody took Iggy Pop aged him 15 years made him a grandmother and covered him in powder, weird crowd good people, we walked across the city for cheesesteaks, it was worth it, I think at one point I ran off by myself up a road and made people worried, I peed on a dirt field looking at the cops, Sasha Fletcher drove us home kindly, a kind man indeed. This night I passed out the second the futon hit my head.
Only late-ish show up on the tour, we came in five past, having spent time at Zach's aunt/uncle's, which I could not stop thinking of as that French house in Apocalypse Now (they were French, it was a port in the storm, etc), another amazing packed house at the amazing Brookline Booksmith, seriously almost as many as Austin, Aaron and I took 5-8 shots of whiskey apiece in 10 minutes right before coming in with the books, I think I had a baby, I read a piece about redneck pussy written in two different voices that I wrote sitting hungover on a curb in Baltimore sun while waiting for the van to fill, "This pussy smells like America," I think I scared some people, I think I was most happy I'd felt ever reading, afterward I lurched into some books. Afterward Gene Kwak and crew threw down. Boston being my last night had a weird sense of loss and homecoming at the same time, I went a little looloo and cut my hand partypiling in a bush, again everyone was so kind and awesome, that reading tours could be like this I had no idea.
Though I am glad to be home now and resting and letting my body eat the caloric reservoir I have in 2 weeks acquired, building a visible gut I never had, so fast, Dollar Baby, and drinking water (I think in NYC I realized I hadn't had a glass of water the whole trip), coming out of the long light, I can't say enough how much it really lit me up being out there with my dear friends funning, "for reals."