If the title and cover weren’t enough of a sign, punk music has been a pretty big influence on my writing. There was a period of a year or so in my teens where I’d spend afternoons laying face-down on my bedroom floor listening to a new (to me) Bad Religion album with liner notes in one hand and a dictionary in the other. But it goes beyond just the vocabulary and invective; I’m pretty sure listening to so many albums that blow through 14 songs in ~30 minutes is the reason my novel barely breaks 50k words.
A couple songs work as themes for specific characters, but most of them are just thematically-aligned with the book in general: songs about selling out, overestimating one’s own abilities, wails of existential despair, a psychobilly song about primordial sea-creatures. I guess the last one isn’t a theme so much as it is something that just plain appears in the text, but hey, what’s more punk than being too on-the-nose with your lyrics?
Dust off your checkerboard Vans and enjoy!
For those of you who don’t use Spotify, here’s the track list:
Mouthwash – Fool’s Gold
Strung Out – Mind Of My Own
Propagandhi – Anti-Manifesto
Osker – Ballad of a Traitor (Hiii Ian!)
Tsunami Bomb – Dawn on a Funeral Day
Bad Religion – We’re Only Gonna Die
Tiger Army – Nocturnal
Refused – New Noise
Sick of it All – Scratch the Surface
Minor Threat – I Don’t Wanna Hear It
Chelsea Wolfe – Advice and Vices
Chelsea Wolfe – Pale on Pale
Priests – Suck
So this is a thing now. My first novel To Another Abyss!, has been published by Spaceboy Books.
It’s a farcical little book following a trust-fund kid and a punk fighting off independent filmmakers and Lovecraftian horrors in a Western Massachusetts college town. “Fighting” in the least effective sense, mind, but still pretty exerting by the characters’ standards.
Nate, TJ, Shaun and everybody else at Spaceboy did an awesome job on the manuscript and cover — it even looks like a hastily-Xeroxed band flyer!
You can find it at the usual massive online retailer, or order it through your favorite independent bookshop. And please review it on GoodReads or the other big retailer if you like it!
My short story, “Excerpts from the Diary of Theodore Miro, Competitor on CryptoChefs Season Two” is now up on Mad Scientist Journal, with wicked cool art by Shannon Legler! They’re a consistently fun publication I’ve been subscribing to for a while, and I really appreciate that they go and commission artwork for each of their stories.
I don’t really have a lot to say about the process behind it. A friend of mine is an excellent chef who competed on a couple cooking shows last year and wasn’t able to talk about it for several months, so I set to imagining what might go on behind the scenes at a cooking contest that you’d need to legally bar contestants from talking about. It turned out to be petty stuff like how often they had to blot Guy Fieri between takes, but still, it was fertile ground for dreaming up weird hi-jinx.
Read it at the above link or buy a copy of the Winter 2018 issue here!
After a slight Esoterotica hiatus I’m back on my bullshit with another Multiple-Choice Misadventure! And I haven’t learned anything about historical accuracy since the last one.
You are Daphne. Not the one from Scooby Doo — I mean the Greek nymph. You’re currently on tinder. Not the app — I mean that you just had to turn into a goddamn tree to stop that horndog Apollo from dragging you into an evening of epic poetry and chill. He seemed nice enough when you were talking to him on Tinder (and I do mean the app that time,) but in person… he’s a major creeper. Not creepy enough that he would try to fuck a tree, your plan totally worked there, but he was definitely too skeezy for you to want to touch as a human.
Which leaves you at an impasse. A woman’s still got needs.
Once you’re sure the coast is clear, you turn back into a human and since you are being written by a man you immediately admire your breasts in the reflection of a nearby lake for about five minutes.
You still don’t have any plans for this evening, so you take out your phone and find that you have three new messages from eager suitors.
The first message appears to be yet another dick pic from Zeus, only he’s a swan in this one. Eeewwwwww.
The second message is from a man named Pentheus. There are pictures of him next to his chariot, lounging on the balcony of his palace, giving a speech at so–waitwait, palace? Scroll back. Yeah, that’s his own frickin’ palace.
Whoever sent the third message has profile pictures of themselves posing with the corpse of a giant boar they’ve killed, and… one of them wrestling a lion? Ohmigod is that really HERCULES macking on you?!
To respond to Pentheus and have him buy you whatever the Greek equivalent of Cosmopolitans were, turn to page 2.
To respond to Hercules because you want to give the Hydra a run for its money as far as head goes, turn to page 3.
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