The Existence of Frigging Creeps, Specifically Ken Hoinsky

TODAY’S BREW: Tea. I am puketastic today. And no, not hungover.

By Julie

 

A recent Kickstarter campaign supported what’s being deemed as a “rape manual.”  I choose this bit of brilliance from Above the Game: A Guide to Getting Awesome With Women by Ken Hoinsky, to speak about today:

To quote Rob Judge, “Personal space is for pussies.” I already told you that the most successful seducers are those who can’t keep their hands off of women. Well you’re not gonna be able to do that if you aren’t in close! ”

“All the greatest seducers in history could not keep their hands off of women. They aggressively escalated physically with every woman they were flirting with. They began touching them immediately, kept great body language and eye contact, and were shameless in their physicality. Even when a girl rejects your advances, she KNOWS that you desire her. That’s hot. It arouses her physically and psychologically.”

“Decide that you’re going to sit in a position where you can rub her leg and back. Physically pick her up and sit her on your lap. Don’t ask for permission. Be dominant. Force her to rebuff your advances.”

Okay, wow. First of all, “aggressively” physically escalate with “every woman?” So, grope at will, basically. There’s been a lot of upstart about how this victimizes women, and most certainly it does, but the only thing I can think is if a man aggressively touched me simply because we were flirting, I would beat the shit of this man fast. I understand women are supposed to be fragile little things, but that’s a load of crap. A tiny girl can kick a man in the nuts as easily as a lumberjack could.

The misguided dominance factor is a little trickier. This jackass has it all wrong, obviously, with the “force her to rebuff your advances” bit. I mean, if I have to fight you off, I don’t like you. Pretty easy. It is not physically arousing to have a pushy sonofabitch force themselves on me. Aggression is different than dominance, and they are both different than confidence. Confidence is undeniably attractive, in both men and women. Having to take it to an aggressive level actually says you have very little confidence, that you must resort to force in order to get someone to want you. Pathetic.

This being said, I can see how an idiot could say that dominance is a turn on to women. Have we not all seen what Fifty Shades of Grey has done to the public perception of being tied up, ordered around, physically abused and mentally subdued? Who knew that a submissive/dominant relationship could have such mass appeal? And that Christian Grey could become the literary heart throb that he has? He’s certainly a far call from the romantic, sweep-you-off-your-feet leading man that we find in Romance novels. So what is it about being dominated that appeals to women? Is this jackass onto something? I don’t think so, but the ability to misinterpret is there.

End of the day, saying that there is a formula to getting a woman to open her legs for you is utterly ridiculous. And to plainly state that physical force is the way to do it, well, pretty sure we’re talking about rape here. The kind of man that thinks women are a box to unlock with some universal key can not possibly make me believe he’s ever had a normal relationship with a woman.

I am still floored every day that sexism, victimization, and rape mentality is a thing. It proves to me that it’s a sickness that can’t be outgrown or eradicated from culture, only dealt with continually. Today’s focus should be on the moron who thinks that force is a great way to land a woman, and his absurdly enormous number of contributors. 710 supporters, to the tune of almost $16,000, when the original campaign was only calling for $2,000 shows me that this is a mentality people agree with, and not just some really terrible joke that’s gaining popularity.

Clearly the number of dirtbags in the world is still growing.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

Today’s Brew:  Water.  Just finished being zumbarific.

by Kristen

Kristen:  Hey, I’m reading the Marilyn Manson biography and there’s a part in it where him and his friend totes used to harass a Pagoda girl.
Dora: That’s an odd book to read.  Why?
And I bet the Pagoda chick ate that right up.
Kristen: Research, silly.  Crazy rawk stah.  And no, she didn’t.
Dora: Research for what?  I’m a little scared.
Kristen:  Book writing, silly.  Safe place to find out the worst case scenario.
Dora:  I know, but that’s like…WORST case.
Kristen. Exactly.  Mission accomplished from the comfort of my own home.  Don’t worry, it’s disturbing.
Dora: Well I guess it’s OK then.  Just don’t relate to it and we’ll be fine.

Dora’s my most conservative friend by a long shot.  I love her anyway. Still, I was a little surprised by her reaction to me reading this book.   I’d always thought of Marilyn Manson more as theater than anything else.

I’m still convinced if the Antichrist is actually walking the earth, they’re probably a lot scarier than that and hidden in plain sight.

As you may know, I love reading rock star biographies.  The dirtier, the more controversial, the better.  (Check out some of my top recommendations here.) So when my friend Liz told me about the debauchery that took place in the Manson bio The Long Road Out Of Hell, I begged her to lend it to me.  We all know debauchery is high on my list of favorite things.  I practically refused to query Because The Night if I couldn’t use that word.

The book did not disappoint.  At some points, I felt better if I considered it fiction than non fiction, because there is some messed up stuff that goes on.  Honestly, the things that bothered me the most were the things that the little boys in his neighborhood did.  It bothered Marilyn as well.  These are the people who grew up to be “well adjusted.”

The treatment of groupies was a bit alarming  as well, especially when The Jim Rose Circus was involved.  (What the hell ever happened to them, anyway?)  Now of course, when we tell stories in first person about ourselves, we tend to leave out the incriminating parts.  But a lot of times it seemed like Marilyn was a little freaked out, as well.  He identified with some of them, outcasts just looking to be accepted.

Don’t we all feel like that sometimes?

Don’t tell Dora, but I could identify with Marilyn a bit.  He knew he didn’t fit in.  He didn’t agree with the stereotypical expectations of what it meant to be a responsible adult.  He wanted to expose what he thought was hypocrisy.  Of course, he chose a very dark way to do it.  But it reminded me of the quote I put in my last post:

“If you want to make enemies, try to change something.” – Woodrow Wilson

Many of the protest letters against the band were included, written by town committees, politicians, and religious organizations.  I have to wonder, do they still have a problem with the band? If you go to their website, you’ll see that their makeup is provided by MAC.  So they went from being paid to not perform to being sponsored by an arm of the Estee Lauder corporation?  What changed?  Was it that Christina Aguilera cover of The Beautiful People?

Dora will probably also be disappointed to learn that Liz and I are going to see Manson and Alice Cooper on Friday Night.

The Future of Future Husbands

 

Allison is one of the Dolls from the Pamela Des Barres writing workshop I attended at the beginning of the month.  Besides being insanely beautiful, she’s also extremely talented. She’s trying to make things happen in the right way.  Check out this project, give her a listen, and spread the word for another artist!

The Responsibility of Being Ourselves

Today’s Brew:  It’s so gorgeous out, I think it might have to be Margarita Monday.

by Kristen

I have so many things that I want to write about today I’m not even sure which one I should pick. So I’m going to try to make them all make sense.

You can take the girl out of management, but you can’t take management out of the girl.  I used to spend a lot of time at the the hospital with my mom.  It didn’t scare me so much anymore, which should have been my first clue something was horribly wrong.  Of course, now I can’t go into one without having a panic attack, the feeling I’m going to leave without an important piece of my life.  But in more optimistic days, I made small talk with one of the nurses.  I asked her if the hospital had any patterns of busyness, like a store would.  Maybe it was a coping technique that I was even thinking about that while I was there. Anyway, she said yes, there were definite patterns.  Mondays were busy.  No one wanted to ruin their weekend off with a hospital visit.  They also had a spike in visitors after Christmas, due to overeating, depression, and adverse reactions to manufactured, mechanical joy.

The moral of the story:  People don’t want to miss the important stuff, even when they’re sick enough to need to go to the ER.  But yet we give it up all the time, because we’re responsible adults and that’s is what we’re supposed to do. Work and responsibility and bills and in laws and all the stupid crap people put up on Facebook to prove to all of us they are really good people.  This theme keeps getting thrust in my face this last week or so.

We have a new follower, Taking Back Earth.  Basically, his blog is about taking life by the balls and doing what he wants.  I found several other of these blogs in searches for eclectic house decor (oddly enough, although I shouldn’t be that surprised that my hippie design ethos would lead me to such things) A Beautiful Mess, Betty Means Business, and Delightfully Tacky.  Besides drooling over brightly colored decor, what have I learned?  What I knew all along.  Normal bores more.

One of the brightly colored objects of my desire. It’s a round velvet headboard. There’s a matching footboard. If it wasn’t $25,000, I’d like to think it would already be mine.

It’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.–Marilyn Monroe

“If you want to make enemies, try to change something.” – Woodrow Wilson

I’m blessed not to have to work a 9-5 job.  As cool as my job can be, it’s still work.  And being a freelancer can often happen at the most inconvenient times.  Usually during birthday parties, concerts, roller derby practice, etc. I miss a lot. I’ve always been afraid to take vacations.  I might miss work, after all.  Things started slowly this year and for the first time in a long time, I’ve been able to do a lot of the things I’ve been missing.  It feels good.  It’s made me reconsider my work work work and more work credo.  Again, retail graduate: work til you puke, then work some more.  Brag about working while puking when lesser employees try to call in sick.  

Someone called me for a last minute job on Saturday.  Instead of just blindly saying yes, I asked about the timing.  I wanted to check out the Fierce Reads Tour (which I will be blogging about on Thursday).  At first, the photographer seemed to be willing to let me work a half day, even though I told him that it wasn’t something I needed to do, just wanted to do.  He then called me back to say they found someone who could stay all day.  At one time, I would have been devastated over losing the money.  But now I realize I need to do things for me, too.

I don’t know if writing has anything to do with it.  When we write, we delve in deep and not only figure out what our characters are made of and what they want, but we find out the same things about ourselves.  Even if we’re not technically bleeding on the page, the process of creating a three dimensional character is extremely therapeutic.  Last night I tweeted Julie a line from the new manuscript I’m working on:

“Erin kept time to the music on her accelerator pedal, making my coffee slosh violently around my stomach.”–Night Moves

I do that all the time.  Julie hates it. I wind up injecting a little bit of myself into all of my characters, especially the women.  This particular line isn’t deep, but some of them are extremely introspective. I figure I have enough quirks to spread through several books.

On Wednesday, I’m going to try surfing. I’ve wanted to try this my whole life.  I asked my friend Jessica when would be good for her, she’s got a babysitter that day.  I told her so far it looks good.  She said, “Oh no, you’re booked.  I never have a day off from being a mom.”  I realized she was right.  I’m playing hooky for the first part of that day.  Then I’m going to do a photoshoot that’s simply for my portfolio, something else I’m always scared to do in the middle of the week because I might miss a paying job.  I need the photos desperately.  They’ll wind up getting me booked far beyond Wednesday.

Sometimes, doing the thing that doesn’t make the most money makes you richer than the paycheck ever would.

Letting The Harpy Out of the Bag! First Excerpt From My New Book

TODAY’S BREW: The Double Extra Magic Monster Size Dunkin Donuts cup.

by Julie

While letting The Animal rest awhile in its first draft completion and getting ready for the release of Running Home, I have been hard at work on a new novel, working title of The Harpy. I’m having a lot of fun with this, and think it’s time to share a bit of it with you guys, who have been here with me since I committed myself to getting published.

Here it is! The first excerpt from my new work in progress, The Harpy! I hope you enjoy it!

 

(From the chapter, I Swallowed a Hell Splinter):

There was nothing here that made me want to open up and spill all my bright and shinies all over the floor. The psychiatrist’s office became more depressing every time I entered it.

“So, Charity, how are we feeling this week?”

“Well, Psychiatrist, if I were feeling good I wouldn’t be here. But I most certainly am feeling myself.”

His little beard and moustache twitched with cynicism. “I can appreciate that. Charity, I’d like to remind you again that you can, of course, call me Dr. Mortimer.”

“Okay, Psychiatrist. I’d like to remind you that you can feel free to begin to call me ‘Patient’ or ‘Lunatic #854’ or what have you.”

He laughed, making the buttons on his tweed vest shimmy and threaten to pop off. “I think you like me more than you let on, Charity.”

“I would also like to remind you that if you don’t say ‘Charity’ in every sentence, I will still remember my name and assume that you probably still do also.”

He pretended to ignore this and brushed imaginary lint off his pants. Should I really be paying someone with such an obvious tick to map the contours of my complex nightmare brain?

“I’d very much like to hear more about your memories of the abuse, Charity.” Still calling me by name. It made me feel like nothing I said mattered to him. And of course, it didn’t.

“I don’t love talking about ‘the abuse,’” I said, using air quotes. “But I wouldn’t mind telling you that I quit my job.”

Genuine surprise. “Did you? How are you going to survive, Charity?”

“I always survive. That is not a question.”

“Fair enough. Why did you quit your job then?”

“Wait, I forgot my name for a minute because you didn’t say it. I quit because I fucking hate doing what a fat ass letch like Roger tells me to do. I can see him staring at me, at all the girls, he’s all fucking sweaty, too, and I just know he’s waiting for me to tell him it’s okay to stare or grope me or whatever.”

“But you’ve dealt with that feeling for him for almost six months. Why the sudden change?”

“It isn’t sudden. But I do feel like now if I were to meet him in a dark alley that I would claw his eyes out and eat them, sucking on them like bloody little lollipops, hoping I could remember through the taste to kick him as he screamed in agony on the filthy ground. So, that’s a change.”

He looked at me, totally blank.

“No, that was not for shock value. That was what I envisioned when I told him off. To answer your next question, no it does not worry me, and yes, of course it should.”

He smiled, like this shit was something he heard all the time, and I got pissed. I could feel fire in my veins, electricity in my eyes, claws itching to protrude from my fingertips. My lips peeled back over my teeth in a snarl that I didn’t try to hold back.

Well, where’s your smartass smile now, Dr. Mortimer?

“Do you—“ He wiped his forehead with a douchebag handkerchief, “do you feel this sort of anger often, Charity?”

“That time I did forget my name, but just for a minute.” My turn to smile.

“Would you say you enjoy that feeling you just had?”

“The last time I felt that happy was when my mother told me she was done with heroin the first time. Blissful. I remember looking in the mirror, not recognizing the smile on my face because I had never seen it before. This feels like that, like I could never be happier than when that rage takes the sunlight away.”

He cringed, but I give him credit, he continued to ask questions.

“Charity, do you want to be happy if it means this is what happens to you?” Sweat dripped down the side of his head.

I leaned forward and his eyes moved from my fishnets to my breasts. “This feeling is the only thing that matters, and what’s happening to me isn’t real. Isn’t that what you told me, Psychiatrist?”

Sitting up straighter, he ignored my chest again, and played Psychiatrist. “I believe that you think you are becoming a monster at night that ravages men and eats their entrails. I believe that to you it is very real.”

It was fun to watch him try not to be afraid, trying not to believe what was right in front of him. It was fun when I killed them in their beds, in bars, in their cars. It was fun to see when a terrible man no longer believed that he was the most terrible thing there was.

This guy was a good guy, who wanted to help me but couldn’t. And it’s why I hated being just a person during the day, the same old Charity who controlled fucking nothing. I felt the heat flow out of me slowly, relaxing my limbs as it went. My eyes didn’t burn. My heart did.

“You won’t believe what you’ve just seen in front of you?”

“Charity—“

“Psychiatrist.”

That actually put him more at ease. “Charity, a person can make all kinds of things happen if they believe it to be true. Success, failure, growth, physical changes.” He motioned to my body, and I leaned back to let him take it all in. “It is what we want most that we make come alive.” He breathed deep. I could see the worry in his face, and I knew he was afraid to see me like that again if he said the wrong thing. “It is our innermost demons that we give voice to when we think we can destroy them.”

I looked away, staring at the shelves of books. “Did you make that up yourself? About the demons?”

Chuckling, he said, “Yes, I suppose I did.”

“It was beautiful.”

“That struck a chord with you?”

I stood up, finishing this session myself, taking the reigns. “I liked it. Except I am the demon. And I want to let myself burn.”

The Five Spot: Leigh Ann Kopans

Today’s Brew:  Raspberry Lime Seltzer.  It can’t always be beer.

by Kristen

Julie and I have been keeping an eye on Leigh Ann Kopans for months now, and not in the creepy, trash picking, Wendig stalking sort of way that might make you say eww.  If you’re considering self publishing, or if you have a debut book coming out from any publishing company, you should be paying attention to Leigh Ann as well.  Leigh Ann’s debut novel, ONE, released on Tuesday.  She decided to self publish.  Instead of just throwing it out there and hoping for the best, she launched a complete campaign including a street team and merchandising.  She gave herself almost six months of lead time to get the word out.  Leigh Ann’s journey to release day is to us an example of how self publishing should be done.  It was never in your face, spammy, or obnoxious.  But we were all still aware of her book.  Mine is on it’s way to me as we speak.  I can’t wait to see what’s between the covers!

Amazon Kindle

Special Edition Paperback with comics (from Amazon)

Barnes and Noble Nook

iBookstore

Signed (from my site)

Without further ado, we asked Leigh Ann five questions about ONE and her life in general:

Tell us about your favorite character in ONE.

Leigh Ann: I really do love the main character, Merrin. She’s doing that thing that teenagers are so good at – wanting a lot of different things and trying to chase them all. She’s grown up with a fierce independent streak, and when someone finally comes along that she can trust, she has kind of a hard time with that.

She’s also crazy-smart, but wants one fantastical thing more than anything else – to be able to fly, which she’s been taught is impossible for her. Her grit and determination drove the story for me.

Nick Flora wrote a song about ONE.  Tell us about your relationship with him.  How did he come up with that song for your book?

Leigh Ann: Nick is the friend of a very good friend. When he  started a Kickstarter for his newest album, “The Reintroduction of Nick Flora,” one of the selections for a contribution was “I’ll write a song about anything you want.” I knew that writing a song for my book was a lot to ask, so I contacted him privately, and a beautiful friendship was born. He ended up writing an absolutely INCREDIBLY PERFECT song for the book. It’s going up for sale on Amazon and iTunes soon.  Listen to it here:

You have put together a thorough campaign for ONE.  Tell us how you put together your team and who did you consider your target audience?

Leigh Ann: I was lucky to have an incredibly savvy assistant, John Hansen, from the very beginning. He helped me create buzz for a street team in his areas of reach – bloggers and teens – that really complimented mine. I brought a lot of writers and adult readers, some of whom are teachers and librarians. The result was that we were able to gather a street team that it pretty well balanced between writers and readers, teens and adults. I couldn’t be happier.

My target audience is definitely teens, and the people who help them choose books – I write Young Adult because I believe in the importance of good stories told well for teens.

What’s the biggest obstacle you’ve come across as a self published author?

Leigh Ann: There’s definitely a stigma out there, so a lot of the time, people come into reading ONE, or even viewing it on Goodreads, as something they expect to be sub-standard right off the bat. To a certain extent, that’s a bummer, because I’d like to be given as fair a shot as anything traditionally published. But mostly, I’m not worried about it, because I’m confident in the book I’m putting out there and its quality.

We think it’s awesome that you’re a rabbi.  How does that influence your writing?

Leigh Ann: LOL thanks! You know, I’m not sure how – or whether – that influences my writing at all. Writing is something I picked up when I was bored out of my skull during the year I stayed at home with my children, and desperate to feel like something I did mattered. I’d always loved literature, but never tried writing anything. So it really came about as wholly separate from the rabbi thing. And I don’t really write about Jewish topics or themes – just the stories in my head.

Leave us with something from ONE.

A few lone fireflies flit around a bit too early. The top three-quarters of the sky are only slightly dark. I reach out to swipe one from the air and watch as it staggers across the back of my hand, testing its legs after a stretch of flight.

I wish walking felt more foreign to me than flying.

Praise for One

 

One balances a fully imagined, super world with deep, well-crafted characters and took me on a heart pounding, heartbreakingly authentic journey I hated to see end.

~Trisha Leigh, author of The Last Year series

 “Exciting, edgy, romantic and beautifully written, ONE is a book from an incredible new writing talent that will leave you longing for more!”

~Emma Pass, author of Acid (Random House 2013) and the upcoming The Fearless (Random House 2014)

 “I opened One and didn’t put it down. On the surface it’s a fast-paced superhero story combined with all the wonderful and terrible aspects of teenage life, but beneath that is the story of a girl who only wants to be more than she is. It’s a fun adventure cloaking a simple but powerful truth of the human condition.”

~Francesca Zappia, author of the upcoming Ask Again Later (Greenwillow/HarperCollins 2014)

Leigh Ann Kopans’s Biography:

Raised on comic books and classic novels, Leigh Ann developed an early love of science fiction and literature. After earning degrees in Sociology and Hebrew, she went on to become a rabbi at The Ohio State University. Surrounded by college students, she found her niche writing science fiction and romance for teens.

Leigh Ann, her husband, and four children live in Columbus, Ohio, which sadly lacks superheroes but does have the best football and fabulous ice cream.

The Rules Of Writing And Why I Break Them

Today’s Brew:  Cherry Chip Swirl.  It’s every bit as good as it sounds.  ‘Cuse me while I go make my third cup.  OK, I’m back.

by Kristen

“You were always my late adapter.  I couldn’t tell you what to do, so I just let you do your own thing.  And you always got everything done, it looked great, and you’d sell a ton of stuff.”

—Dora, my old boss at Piercing Pagoda and one of my very best friends

“Wow, you both work so differently from each other.”

—Julie, when I had her assist me on a job that another makeup artist worked as well

It’s no surprise I march to the beat of my own drummer. I read magazines from back to front.  When I did the art portion of my makeup classes, my brain wouldn’t let me do things the way the teacher showed us.  I had to do it differently.  That’s when I realized it was art, and there were no rules to creativity.

YOU MUST WRITE EVERYDAY!  LET’S SPRINT!  TWEET OUT LINES! WRITE CRAP!  JUST GET WORDS DOWN!  

I won’t lie, I tried to do all these things.  But they gave me anxiety attacks.  It just isn’t how I work.

Some days, life just gets in the way.  Sure, I know, I should be treating writing like a job.  And I couldn’t call in to my paying job and say, “Oh, sorry. I can’t come today because the house is dirty.”  But I will clean my house before I write, because the mess will distract me to the point I won’t write anyway.  And speaking of that day job thing, sometimes I put it super long hours and all my brain can do is take a shower and go to bed at the end of the day.  Other times,  I need to do other creative things to inspire me to write. As I’ve mentioned before, I love decorating my house.  I just glittered all my switch plates. They make me smile.  I need to get out of the house and experience things.  All of this helps my writing.

Julie loves sprinting.  It helps motivate her.  Sometimes I participate, but I don’t kill myself if I’m not feeling it in that half hour time slot.  Even before we were the Twitter side show we’ve become, Julie would just tell me to “Go!”  And I’d panic.  I can’t write like that.  I have to think about it, know where I am going.  Because The Night had a solid plan.  I even wrote some of it out of order.  Night Moves is being sort of pantsed.  Way out of character for me.  I need to think about what happens next, then write it.  I have to have some control.

My writing is more conversational.  I write like I talk, as if I was telling a story.  Julie comes up with these great word combinations and works with those.  They work great as tweets.  Mine, not so much.  It doesn’t mean that it’s bad, it’s just a different way of getting to the same place.  I love Julie, and she’s an amazing writer, but I don’t want to write like her.  I want Julie to write like Julie and Kristen to write like Kristen.

When I start each of my writing sessions, I read over what I wrote last time.  I tweak as I go, I know, another big writing no no.  But it helps me get geared up for the flow of the next piece.  I can’t write for the sake of writing, words that might not make sense.  Sure, sometimes I don’t exactly know where I’m going and my characters surprise me.  For as much of a control freak as I am, I do let them take control.  It is their story.  But I like to have some hints about what will happen next.  Editing as I go helps me have a more complete piece even at the end of the first draft.  I know that this first draft won’t be perfect, but it’s not going to be a steaming pile of cow patty, either.  I fix plot holes as I go and add and subtract as I work.  When I do go back and read for consistency and to reconnect with the earlier parts of the book, I feel pretty good about it. And that keeps me writing.

All of that being said, I do write most days.  But I don’t beat myself up when I can’t.  I keep notebooks everywhere and voice text myself ideas while I drive.  When I do write, I can write fairly quickly and get a lot of words down in a sitting.  Yesterday I clocked in at about 2500 in two small sessions.   I do my best to treat it like a job.  With every job, there comes a time of the day you put it down and live the other parts of your life.

Once I became active on Twitter, I saw how different my process was than a lot of other people’s processes.  At first it made me feel like I was doing it wrong.  But it’s art, a creative process, and whatever way is best for you is the way you should be creative.  I can’t be the only one who has a different way of doing things.  Creatives don’t like to follow rules.  So if you are doing your own thing, keep doing it.  Just keep getting the words down.

The Good Cringe: Julie Shoots Off At The Mouth About On The Lips Of Children

TODAY’S BREW: All The Coffee, All Flavors and Sizes

By Julie

“Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated. She wondered if her monthly bleeding would arrive to help her measure the time. She urinated often at first, but this had stopped, and there was little bowel to pass. Her fingers clamored over the flesh of her children, always feeling their skin, comforting every piece, holding them against her flesh, cradling them together. They may have been better off had their eyes never opened.”

Yeah, that’s just part of the prologue of  Mark Matthews’ new novel, On the Lips of Children, the story of a tattoo artist, his human canvas, and their child who get kidnapped by a blood-thirsty tweaker family raising their twin children in a drug tunnel.

Because I am spoiled, and Mark is being published alongside me at Books of the Dead Press, I got to read this before the rest of you jimooks. This book is one of the rare ones that I could only read in small bits and pieces because it made me so emotional and wore on me so heavily. The wording is incredibly vivid and gut-wrenching, but it’s the sheer possibility of the premise that makes this such an intense read. I’d challenge any parent to be able to read it and not cringe at the thought that this could be you and your children.  Mark says, “mother is indeed the name for God on the lips of all children, and love for family is at the core of this story.”

So, how the hell did this grim shit crop up in the gentleman’s mind? “The idea came from a predawn, dark run in San Diego. It was so dark I could barely see the trail, and ran by faith, not by sight.  As I ran, bodies of sleeping homeless men were strewn about the trail, some of them shuffling as I passed, some rising, and my imagination grew. What if these men were part of some insidious network, what if they were after me? I felt the specter of Tijuana not far from me, and eventually did more research into drug cartels and Tijuana kidnappings.

I came up with the idea of a mother who was trapped with her babies in a drug tunnel and would do anything for their survival, even if it meant feeding off the bodies of others. The twins are raised this way, and it changes them forever.”

Mark’s writing playlist of  Nine Inch Nails and The White Stripes, plus some influence from Cujo show through in the novel’s grim tone. I thought it was very cool that Mark actually has been to the area he wrote about. He said, “The exotic nature of the Tijuana to San Diego drug tunnel needed as much care in developing as any character. I have been deep into the bowels of Tijuana to places I wouldn’t go back.”

Also, Mark says cool stuff. I read books written by people who say cool stuff.  He said this, for example. “I see fiction as life with the volume turned up, and nothing turns up the volume of life like a little darkness to outline the glow of the human spirit.  You need the dark to see the stars, as the character Dante says after snorting some bath-salts.” Obviously, he can write.

I never want to go there either, but I would go back to On the Lips of Children.

Mark Matthews has worked in the behavioral health field for nearly 20 years, including psychiatric hospitals, runaway shelters, and substance abuse treatment centers. His first novel, Stray, is based on experiences working in a treatment center with an animal shelter right next door within barking distance. He is an avid runner, and his second novel, The Jade Rabbit, is the story of a woman, adopted from China, who is raised in Detroit and runs marathons to deal with lingering trauma. Follow Mark’s blog,  Running, Writing, and Chasing the Dragon.  Bother him on Twitter @matthews_mark .

 

Blackbirds: How It Created A Wendig Trash Picker

TODAY’S BREW: A spiked watermelon. It’s cookout weather.

By Julie

 

Many of you may know of my love for Chuck Wendig. Others of you may know that I have been spotted kicking raccoons and squirrels aside when he brings the trash out at 8:40 every other night so that I may delight in the splendors of his used packagings and such.

WELL, HERE’S WHY A LITTLE BIT: BLACKBIRDS, BITCHES.

Miriam Black knows when you will die.

She’s foreseen hundreds of car crashes, heart attacks, strokes, and suicides.

But when Miriam hitches a ride with Louis Darling and shakes his hand, she sees that in thirty days Louis will be murdered while he calls her name. Louis will die because he met her, and she will be the next victim.

No matter what she does she can’t save Louis. But if she wants to stay alive, she’ll have to try.

Please, you know you want to read that.

Blackbirds has had its share of not so positive commentary, specifically from female readers, due in no small part to Miriam’s voice. This is what I want to talk about. Nay, this is what I want to YELL ABOUT.

If you are looking for a book where the heroine is given a horrific gift that has all but destroyed her life and is still a cupcake eating, kitten loving, sunshine smiling breath of fresh air, then you want a book that doesn’t make any fucking sense. Miriam Black has been cornered into being anti-social and street smart. To get close to anyone in this wanderer life she leads would be a nail in her emotional coffin. Throw in that she will absolutely know how long the clock is ticking for anyone she touches, and you’ve got a character who is closed off, defensive, silently afraid and is covered in mental scars.

Women who don’t understand this are not looking for a female heroine they can be sympathetic to. They are looking for one that they don’t have to see the dark underbelly of. You can’t tell me that I am supposed to want to have a cup of tea with the heroine of a novel like this. I don’t have to like her, I have to understand her. And in Miriam’s defense, I do like her. She’s a tough broad, not because she can kick the ass of anyone who looks at her cross-eyed, or because she has a no bullshit attitude. I see enough of that, and frankly, it is not enough to make me give a shit. On the contrary, I am sick of wisecracking bombshells with a chip on their shoulder. NO MORE OF THOSE. Miriam may have some of these qualities, but she’s tough for this reason—she goes on. She continues. She drives forward in a world that offers her zero compassion or comfort. That’s strength.

As for people who find her voice to be too “masculine,” I am almost as offended by this as I am by the need for pink dumptrucks for little girls. So a man can swear, be bitter and offensive as a hero, but a woman has to be girly for you to like her? That’s the most fucking sexist thing I can think of, and insanely unrealistic. So what if Miriam were a lesbian, would it be okay then? Let’s pull out some more stereotypes to mold our brains into as we read TO RELEASE OUR INHIBITIONS. If you want to read a book about someone that sounds like a pretty, pretty princess, maybe you should not be reading a novel with the edge that this one requires. Because, once again, IF SHE SOUNDED LIKE A TEACUP TOTING DEBUTANTE I WOULD NOT BELIEVE THAT SHE HAD SEEN THE DARK SIDE OF THE WORLD THAT SHE HAS SEEN.

To wrap up this motherfucker of a rant, I need to say that this is not a novel that focuses on making the heroine something out of the ordinary and never seen before. Miriam is exactly who she needs to be. This is a novel about choices, fate, and control. It has a multifaceted plot line that delivers depth and  complexity. While Miriam appears to have no control, she is still forced to make choices that will reap scathing results no matter what. She is partially responsible for the disasters she creates, and yet has little other option. Grueling twists drive this story forward, and bring it to a crescendo that has you burning to know Miriam’s next move.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a trash hat to make. It’s cold and windy outside Chuck’s window in the night.

Don’t be stupid, follow Chuck’s blog here.  http://t.co/xCjRAsl4K3

Obviously, follow Chuck on Twitter @ChuckWendig

Julie Speaks and The World Listens

Today’s Brew:  various varieties of fruity ales.  Clementine and Apricot.  Yum to the tum.

by Kristen and Julie.  There hasn’t been a twosome in awhile on here.  You guys deserve the best.

Our little Julie is kind of a big deal.  First a book deal, and today an interview with Lydia’s Literary Lowdown on Blog Radio.

Julie and Lydia connected on you guessed it, Twitter.  That place that we all go and Julie entertains us.  Lydia asked Jules to do this interview long before Running Home got a deal, because she believed in her enough to put her on the show, stinkin’ book deal or not.  Typing is easy, but talking is hard.  Or so we built it up in our heads to be.  Julie sounded like a pro.  After all, she was talking about her favorite subject:  herself.  Oh yeah, and her Running Home.

Fun Fact:  Lydia is also a psychic and medium.  Check out her website for more info!

Doing the interview made the book coming out feel real. Julie didn’t do a ton of prep for the interview, because she didn’t want to feel rehearsed or screw it up from too much thinking. Hearing the moderator introduce her was strange, as well as going to the “green room” to talk behind the scenes.    It was a surreal experience for Julie, talking about the potential of the book, and how well it could do.  Or not do.  Talking to someone that Julie had met over social media who knew her book so well was kind of humbling. They spoke about Lydia’s take on the book, which was different than Julie steering the conversation. Lydia was surprised to learn that the book came to life in many notebooks, by hand, and then modeled on the computer.  It made the book take on a life that Julie never expected that it could.  If she needed to be any more energized about the release, well Lydia did it.  Lydia can’t wait for the sequel, but she’s going to have to be patient, because our Julie is a busy girl.

Julie had come to my house to do the interview because my house doesn’t have kids in it.  So I was here too, sitting exactly where I am now in the living room while Julie sweat through the interview in my kitchen, drinking a beer.  I decided as the interview started to live tweet it to get people listening as it happened.  I had a blast doing this.  People participated the whole hour, listened in, gushed about their reactions to listening to Julie, retweeted, and favorited.  Our sweet Jolene even tried to call in!  When the Twitter feed died down, I tweeted out fun facts related to the interview and Running Home, and if Julie said anything quotable.  (but not too much of that, because we don’t want her head to get big or anything).  It was almost like promo for the promo.  People from all over the world tuned in and chatted with me.

“This was like a movie started moment.”  Julie said.  We had so much fun doing this.  Julie will most likely be doing something like this again.  And maybe someday, so will I.

Julie’s Interview is available for your listening pleasure all this week.