DEEDLEDLEDLE
Golly, things move fast around here. I’ve been wanting to blog about how I adopted this horrible three-legged cat and I haven’t had time to even speak of him. (I will say briefly: his name is Hopper. I have no fewer than five band-aids on my person currently.)
Orders of business: I’m putting together a tour calendar. You will find it under the “Calendar” tab on this page. Also, please see the gorgeous new site header, designed by Zach Dodson.
THREATS is officially on sale Feb 28. The proper way to write THREATS is to put it in all caps, thusly: THREATS. It’s not an acronym. It’s just a word in capital letters. I decided that because Threats doesn’t look good and all the actual threats are in capital letters. (They are not acronyms, either. There are plenty of other secrets in that book to find; don’t worry about acronyms anymore.) The book has gotten very nice pre-publication reviews from San Diego CityBeat, Untoward, Kirkus, etc. Booklist said, “her first novel proves she has stamina for the long form.” Publishers Weekly said, “This is an innovative debut novel featuring a most unreliable (and compelling) narrator.” So ends my pre-publication paragraph. Well, one more thing: I’ve been living with and working on this book for years and I hope you like it.
Los Angeles is teeming with creative energy. Everyone is working on something, thinking about working on something, showing me what they’re working on. I feel annoyed that I have to do things like eat and buy band-aids and get quarters for laundry when I could be working, working, working. I’m overdue calling my parents. I grind my teeth in my sleep. I’m eating a lot of things I find in trees. The cats and I posse up and roam the streets at night. My fingernails have sharpened to killer points. My eyes are turning orange.
FROM JAMES DICKEY’S ‘SORTIES’
There might be some wonderful piece of writing latent in that newspaper item I saw the other day about the Korean fellow who fell off the ship and then grabbed onto a giant sea turtle and rode him for several days before he was picked up. That is wonderful to me. What must that man have felt? What must the turtle have felt? What must they have felt together?
PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY ON THREATS
David’s life becomes increasingly weird as he wanders his now unfamiliar home, struggling to tease out the details of his past life and whether his wife is dead with what little is left of his fractured mind. The book is a series of short, disjointed, and unchronological chapters. The story can seem labyrinthine at times, but the narrative arc acts as a clever reflection of David’s own developing mental illness. Gradually, as with any good detective novel, the pieces come together. What would have seemed gimmicky in the hands of a less skilled writer becomes a cunning whodunit with Gray (Museum of the Weird) at the reins. This is an innovative debut novel featuring a most unreliable (and compelling) narrator.
Read the full review here.
WATCH THIS SPACE
I’m back after a week-long celebratory Pop-Tart binge following the announcement that I’m one of the LA Times Faces to Watch 2012. Todd Zuniga and Shalom Auslander also made the books page.
THERE'S OUR POTATO HEAD
Thanks so much to Carolyn Kellogg for the kind words inside. I’ve just been bowled over by the kindness I’ve seen in this city. From the lady who did my smog inspection, to new friends who are already becoming good friends, to my building manager, to the guy who walks his weird fat dog down my street at night, I’ve had such a warm welcome here and I’m so grateful.
More good news for the New Year: I’m also on Flavorpill’s Most Anticipated Books of 2012 list, along with Adam Levin and Shane Jones. Great work, everyone!
PHEW
We made it through the major color-driven holidays. Good work, everyone. I used to get very depressed during Christmas — twelve screaming fights, eleven morning cocktails, ten pounds of weight gain — before I decided to embrace the day, to go all out even: buying a tree, hanging a wreath on my sad apartment door, playing the hell out of Pandora’s “Christmas Jazz” station, having lots of people over the day-of for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s maybe one of the more annoying things I do, but it helps me get through the end of the year.
HOSTESSING OUT OF CONTROL
(Mary Hamilton made the dress above. She made it!) My parents were in town for the week and we got to explore Silver Lake and Griffith Observatory. They also helped me out (with Mary and Todd) with a cold-read of a pilot I’m working on, and now I have the forever-memory of my mom saying “Hotties aplenty, dude,” which is maybe the best line of dialogue I’ve ever written or will ever write, past or future. Just give me the award now. The Dialogue Award.
All that holiday cheer is tiresome, even when it’s self-sustaining. I haven’t ventured into my office yet, choosing instead to stay in bed like I’m still on vacation and I just like answering work email for funsies.
I hope you had a lovely holiday, or if you didn’t have a lovely holiday, that at least it’s over now and hey it’s almost New Years, the holiday that sneaks up on us all and is a fun party, with kissing.
SOME EXCITEMENT
Last night at around 5am, the cat was putting her paw into my mouth to demand food when we were both startled by a metal-on-metal crash that shook the building. I got out of bed and peeked out my front window, where I saw a man in the street running circles around his car. Smoke was pouring out of the hood and the man alternated between lifting the hood to examine the damage, collecting bottles of water from his passenger seat and pouring them on the engine block, hauling ass back to the driver’s seat, trying to start the car. Every time he tried, the car produced a nasty grinding noise and died. The smoke was getting worse and I had a vision of him blowing himself up on the spot, so I called 911 and told them that a guy had ran his car into some parked cars on my street. By then, the guy was starting to run halfway down the street, turn, and run back to the car. He seemed to be having trouble making decisions. I told the lady on the phone that the guy appeared to be about to abandon the vehicle. The lady on the phone asked me if I had seen the crash. I said I hadn’t, and she said that if I hadn’t seen it, I couldn’t confirm that it had happened. I said, okay. The lady asked me if I could see flames. I said that it was just smoke, and she said that if I couldn’t see flames, it wasn’t on fire. I said, good point. The lady asked if anyone on the scene needed a paramedic. The guy ran down the street and around the corner. I said no and went back to bed. Today, the car is gone and there is a long skid mark starting from a line of parked cars totally crushed on their left side panels. I didn’t see it happen so I have no idea what to think.
GOOD JOB
I’m going to pretend like I didn’t find a lot in common with Charlize Theron’s acerbic, depressed, Diet Coke-chugging Mavis Gary in Young Adult. Instead, from here on out, I’m going to try to have a lot in common with Mavis Beacon, because that lady knows how to TYPE.
THANKS
I have a writing partner now, which is kind of like having an actual partner except you never fight and he doesn’t ask why you’re whispering about home row in your sleep. I also bought a tiny space heater. It makes my tiny closet office more bearable. It’s humming away happily now.
LIT-RIT-CHURR
- Renee Zambo interviewed me for Necessary Fiction. You can find our conversation and a glowing picture of Kathy Fish here.
- Also, please find a sweet review of Museum of the Weird over at I Read Odd Books.
- Just starting to put together tour dates for THREATS next year. Boston (Booksmith!), NYC (Happy Ending!), Iowa (Prairie Lights!) and more. Really excited to get on the road.
- My piece “Fifty Ways to Eat Your Lover” is in McSweeney’s 39.
TODAY’S THOUGHT WHILE GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCHING PICTURES OF RICK ROSS
Posit: The phrase “like a boss” removes power from the speaker, who simultaneously attempts to gain power by the very act of their claim.
“Eating a sandwich like a boss.”
By not cutting off the crust and by keeping a napkin by my side, I am eating this sandwich in the way a boss might. This action is based on my observations of bosses that I know personally or professionally along with media-based cultural cues.
“Living in a one-bedroom apartment like a boss.”
Though I am aware that many bosses live in Los Angeles and in fact enjoy their time here, as I do, my choice of domicile is only a simulacrum of how this revered Other lives. I have very little insight into the way upper management might exist in Los Angeles but I offer this approximation. Would a boss seek out gas stations offering a lower cash price? Perhaps.
“Shopping at Food 4 Less like a boss.”
I understand that one must spend money to make money, and the fact that milk is only $3 at this discount grocery store gives me pleasure in my budgetary habits, not unlike how a boss might react while reading the spending report from FY2011.
“Feeling groggy like a boss.”
Surely, after a long day packed with managerial activities, any boss is going to feel sleepy. This theoretical boss might put his head down on his mahogany desk while nobody was watching. He might not necessarily spend the morning in bed, holding the covers up over his nose and mouth while wondering at the best name for a modern romance novel (A Bard to Butt-Dial?) but the sentiment behind the action would be the same.
5 DAY BUDGET
THINGS FOR WHICH I SHELLED OUT CASH
- Curtain wire ($12.99)
- Vet ($550)
- Stupid electric screwdriver ($19.99)
- I Want My Hat Back ($13.99)
- Pumpkin puree ($5.99)
- Whiskey ($10)
THINGS FOR WHICH I WAS COMPENSATED
- Sold coupon on eBay ($10)
- Interviewed inventor of Clocky, the World’s First Clock on Wheels ($90)
- Completed survey about experience with Chase Credit Card ($10)
- Washed cat pee off quarter (.25)
THINGS FOR WHICH I WAS NOT COMPENSATED
- Plasma donation
- Fiction
- Non-fiction
- Farts
VIDEO/VICE
Check out an excerpt of THREATS in Vice. THREATS will be out in March! Sorry, you must wait. I wish I could beam it into your brain beforehand. Wait a second, I’ll try.
Did that work?
I’m not very good at this.