Video Games are Real

Category: General News

  • Jose Saramago, my latest literary love, has died at age 87

    Jose Saramago, my latest literary love, has died at age 87

    Jose Saramago, who quickly became one of my favorite authors after I read Blindness just last year, has died. But damn, he had a fine run, producing some of the most amazing novels I’ve ever read. There truly is no writing like Saramago writing.

    I am lucky enough, however, to still have a robust back catalog of his work to dive into. In fact, just yesterday, I started The Stone Raft, and already, just 10 pages in, I’m hooked.

    Even stranger is that I began work on a novella a few weeks ago, that contains some Saramago-inspired passages. Now, I suppose, I’ll be giving even more time to these sections to ensure they are worthy of their heritage.

  • “The human race is on the brink of extinction. Bunny fights for them”: an interview with Alan Kelly

    “The human race is on the brink of extinction. Bunny fights for them”: an interview with Alan Kelly

    (This interview is cross-posted at Outsider Writers Collective)

    Full disclosure: I’m writing this intro after having imbibed a few pints of Guinness at a downtown KC Irish pub called O’Dowds, which, as a nod to authenticity, has been given my grandmother-in-law’s seal of approval, all the way from Ballyshannon, Ireland. The inebriation is all the more fitting, considering Alan Kelly’s Dublin area connections.

    Alan first contacted me, years ago, by the invitation in one of my first publication author bios: “He welcomes conversation via email.” I intended the trailing line to garner no more than a grin from the few who read it. But Alan’s willingness to contact a stranger should have clued me in early on to what a true individual he is.

    We have been communicating online and following each others work since. When I first heard about his novella, Let Me Die a Woman, I was quite excited. As the title and cover art suggest, this book is unabashedly pulp. Having developed a sense of Kelly’s style, via his many reviews, interviews, and essays on the topic of b-reel pulp, I knew that this man is someone who takes great pride in his material. Though I wasn’t familiar with the nuances of this genre before reading Let Me Die a Woman, I knew that I was in very capable hands.

    Caleb J Ross: It’s damn obvious that you love and respect the genre in which Let Me Die a Woman exits. It seems every one of your interviews and every essay you’ve written touches on, and pays homage to, the heroines that have come before yours. Angel Dare from Christina Faust’s Money Shot and Choke Hold, Bella from Helen Zahavi’s Dirty Weekend, Ariel Manto from Scarlett Thomas’ The End of Mr Y, Eloise Murphy from Danny Hogan’s Killer Tease, and Diana Kemp from Cathi Unsworth’s The Not Knowing all are referenced in a single question from your Five For interview at 3AM Magazine. How does Let Me Die a Woman’s Bunny Flask fit within this family of heroines?

    Alan Kelly: I’ve always wanted to write a heroine (or anti-heroine) though Bunny is as much a homage to real-life horror icons such as Heidi Martinuzzi (editor of Pretty Scary) Shannon Lark (founder of The Chainsaw Mafia) my “Monster Kid” Alice Fiend has similar red hair to Rue Morgue’s former editor Jovanka Vuckovic and of course the lovely filmmaker, Gorezone columnist & Scream Queen Suzi Lorraine. Both Heidi and Jovanka are both in The Top 15 most influential women in horror and they are both brilliant at what they do, No, not brilliant, they are spectacular. Of course I’m not saying Heidi has ever cut anybody in two with a double-barrelled shotgun or Shannon is a murderous, chainsaw wielding vixen or that Jovanka is a vicious Alien queen with a pet monster who carves people up.

    I reckon Bunny would love Diana and Angel and see them as wiser older sisters. Bella is a cold, calculated psychopath and I’m sure Bunny would appreciate her sense of humour. She’d never beat Eloise in a fight and would probably think Ariel was too academic and snooty. So Bunny, Alice and Kiffany are sort of an amalgamation of real and imagined heroines. I return to all these fictional characters now and again and am really excited about Choke Hold and Cathi’s forthcoming book. The world needs Angel Dare.

    CJR: We both come from small towns, though I won’t be brash enough to compare our upbringing with any depth, as I’ve only been to Dublin once, and during that trip, though I stayed in a few small towns (hello to my family in Co. Sligo!) the trip wasn’t long enough to give me the ability to truly assess the areas. However, I’m sure we can both relate on the idea of returning home, after having been gone. Do you return to your village ever? What sort of reception do you get, considering the themes of your writing?

    AK: I moved back home last year full-time. I was sick of the city and a family member was having health problems so I came home to stay with them. The village I live in is two miles from Wicklow Town (which is The Garden of Ireland) – oh it’s been insane since LMDAW was published! People have been lovely and very supportive. There are a lot of misconceptions about people who live in rural areas, a lot! In a way coming from a small village is sort of like having a lot of relatives – I realise how corny that sounds – I’ve lived in London and Dublin and to be honest I’ve become isolated and depressed in both cities which has led to me becoming really quite self-destructive. But moving on – In primary school every time my class was assigned an essay, I’d write fan-fiction and gleefully kill off all my classmates! The teachers used to be horrified and I was sent home several times but my classmates loved them! I even talked one of my teachers into letting the class watch Alien 3! Well I didn’t actually say it was that film! He switched it off almost immediately! I switched the cover with another film – The Neverending Story I think it might have been. Fun times. I would never show anyone my poetry, not family or friends and certainly nobody from my village – it’s something which is very personal, often brutal, something belonging to me and is none of anybody else’s business.

    CJR: True, corny. But so be it. I understand the feeling of family. And like a true family, I assume there is always that urge, whether embraced or not, to somehow make those hometown neighbors proud. Even the bullies and town jerks, somewhere there is a kinship there that warrants at least the striving for respect. Do you feel like you have this respect now that you have returned?

    AK: I think there is a common decency which exists in small-places that is absent in any city. But of course, small places are not without the scum element. My family are a fairly close bunch and I mostly keep to myself. I have very few friends having lived away for many years. I like the country, I like walking down to The Monkey Pole on the beach in Wicklow Town or going to the lakes and looking out over the estuary or sitting in my local supping cider. Of course there are so many drawbacks to living somewhere so remote. No cinema, no culture, hard to meet new people, though there is a great little bookshop called Bridge Street Books. The bullies I couldn’t give a flying fuck about, I never did when I was growing up and I sure don’t now. I do go to the city quite a bit – mostly for books and to hook up with people I haven’t seen in a while. For now, I’m ok where I am, For now.

    CJR: In your 3AM conversation with label-mate Danny Hogan, you briefly mention your current project: “The book I’m writing now is very different from Let Me Die A Woman: weird, visceral and inspired by an investigative piece I wrote while studying on missing migrant children in Ireland – 300 missing children in five years and its low profile. I was horrified by it and completely disgusted nobody seemed to give a fuck.” How did you get involved with the investigative piece that led to this project? Can you tell me more about this project?

    AK: I was in my first year of journalism at BCFE and read an article in one of the broadsheets on missing migrant children. At first I didn’t really believe what I was reading so I phoned the journalist who had wrote the piece and contacted The Irish Refugee Centre. Still not entirely sure what I was hearing, I went further to the Irish Office of Migration and spoke to a man there. When I asked why this was so low profile and wondered why the media weren’t all over it he told me “it’s a matter of resources…”

    Recently a 17 year old boy called Daniel McAnapsie was brutally murdered when he was supposed to be in the care of the HSE. His parents died when he was a child. He’d been in and out of care for most of his life. How can such precious life be so easily lost? Why don’t people try harder? This is appalling. Here is a piece about the migrant children. It is reported that 200 died while in care.

    My next book will be an act of vengeance and retribution for children like this.

    CJR: In Cathi Unsworth’s interview with you at Bookmunch, she says Let Me Die a Woman “is possessed of such audacious wit and originality that it seems the author has created a whole new trans-genre of his own.” Do you agree with this?

    AK: I think she was very kind with that review, and she is an extraordinarily generous and supportive person and friend. I like that LMDAW doesn’t fit into any boxes and I do borrow from horror, noir, grindhouse and sci/fi quite a bit with it. At first I wasn’t even aware I was doing this, it sort of happened organically. I suppose you could describe is as “trans-genre” almost. It’s a mash-up of a lot of things. Quite chaotic and less ordered than what I am writing now.

    CJR: Have you any experience with the Bizarro genre? As of the last few years, there have been many books released as part of this new(ish) genre, which you may find interesting. Basically, it is an anything goes category, where it is not uncommon to find men dressed in suits made of cockroaches, houses built with human bricks, and haunted vaginas. I’m not comparing your work to this (as I feel yours takes itself more seriously), but I’m wondering if you have any thoughts on this genre.

    AK: I’ve read quite a bit of Bizarro and recently interviewed Jeremy Shipp (Cursed) and D. Harlan Wilson. I agree that it is an anything goes category and is sometimes slipstream, sometimes noir, sometimes comedy, sometimes horror. There are infinite permutations within this ‘genre’ and I think that is why I find it quite appealing. I can understand why others wouldn’t. But I like it. There is a literary website called Sein und Werden which publishes quite a lot of excellent, twisted, experimental fiction which you should definitely check out if you find the time. You could perhaps describe some of the content as the dark older sister of Bizarro. Other writers of Bizarro I like are Jordan Krall, Gina Ranelli and Tom Bradley. All fantastic.

    CJR: I, being comparatively unschooled on the ladies of noir, found your roundtable discussion at Bookslut extremely informative. You seem intent on promoting hardboiled fiction, as almost every other word from you is in honor of writers who have come before you. Why such interest in pushing this genre? Why is it so important that other people read it?

    AK: Thank you. Hardboiled/noir/horror and outsider fiction are all areas I feel quite affectionate towards. They offer us glimpses into the gritty, the gory, the depraved and introduce us to characters we’d never meet in real life. I suppose a part of me is very much drawn to the dangerous element that exists in these fictions. As to pushing interest in the genre – I think for the most part it’s an area of literature which can be sometimes overlooked. They speak to and for the outsider, those who exist on the margins, the sort of characters you won’t see on The New York Times Bestseller lists. I would say my love affair with the weird and the brutal and the smart began with Poppy Z Brite and continued from there. Her writing led me to others – and being gay and liking aggressive writing I was like a moth to a flame picking up Matthew Stokoe and Dennis Cooper and Christa Faust. All writers who write about transgressive sexuality in a way that is intoxicating, intelligent and sometimes slightly insane. I ADORE Hard Case Crime and have nearly read all of their titles. Charles Ardai is just brilliant and I hope he continues to publish hardboiled fiction.

    CJR: Bunny Flask’s situation is unique in that, without giving too much away, she is fighting against a force that is intent on ridding the world of all males. However, given the argument by many transgendered people that gender is inborn, Bunny, who is physically male but inherently female, could be either spared or slain by this force, depending on the above argument. Do you fear any backlash from the transgender community considering that Bunny’s willingness to destroy this force implies that gender may not be inborn?

    AK: For Bunny, its personal and by the time the credits roll she is pretty much left with no choice but to stop Psyche and The Sisters. There are many variations of gender, I am inclined to agree with Kate Bornstein (101 Alternatives to Suicide, Gender Workbook) that the male/female binary does not exist and there are not two but several genders and that gender is linked to identity which is constantly changing and throughout our lives evolution of character is always happening, that change is an on-going process and that nothing is written in stone. The human race is on the brink of extinction. Bunny fights for them. Psyche is as much a threat to women as it is to men. Her fighting for the survival of men has got nothing to do with gender. It’s for the survival of humanity. I also think Bunny is a gender queer who identifies as female and that a lot of what happened to her in the past formed who she became.

    Visit:
    Alan Kelly (the author)
    Pulp Press (the publisher)

    Buy:
    From Amazon.co.uk

    Read:
    The Outsider Writers Collective review of Let Me Die a Woman

  • Signed Book Nerd

    Most of you probably don’t know this, but secretly, I am not the cunning stallion that I appear to be. Sure, I am a sexy reader, I can do the robot worm electric slide, and I dress in the finest clothes straight from snazzy street (Snazzy and 14th Avenue is where the local Salvation Army clothing depot is located; they always have the hippest fanny packs). But underneath all of this slathered-upon cool, I carry a potentially social-life threatening secret. I like signed books.

    Sure, it’s not the most embarrassing collection out there. I know a kindergartner who collects rocks. Seriously. And not even cool rocks, either. Regular, gravel-style gray lumps of compressed sediment nonsense. I drove him down a country road once and his head exploded.

    But this post isn’t about dumb kids. It’s about dumb adults. Here’s my collection for all of you to pick through and criticize.

    A few of my most treasured (though I love all my babies):

    • Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson (personally inscribed)
    • The Fifty-Year Sword by Mark Z. Danielewski (super-rare
    • Altmann’s Tongue by Brian Evenson (first edition)
    • Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk (first edition)

    Anyone else out there collect signed books? What are your treasures?

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  • The Fringe Benefits of Writing Fiction

    The Fringe Benefits of Writing Fiction

    Writing fiction is not a rich man’s game. Though some authors are able to attain and sustain luxury by writing novels, that club is quite exclusive. In fact, most of the authors whose books you see even in national bookstore chains (Barnes & Noble, Borders, etc.) have day jobs. Fiction is usually a supplement their better life decisions.

    Did you know Jim Lehrer has published 17 novels? No, you didn’t. John Lithgow, Alan Arkin, Jimmy Buffet, Wes Craven, and so many others also wrote fiction. But they were smart enough to go to celebrity school instead of author college.

    But, fiction writing is not without its fringe benefits. Here’s a few I’ve discovered:

    • I change into my pajamas at around 5:00pm, not out of laziness, but as a mimetic character channeling method. It’s entirely coincidental that I write about lazy characters.
    • Nobody expects me to be socially comfortable. Conversely, I can fart in public, and people simply assume I am expressing my angst at society or government or foreigners or something, and that I will eviscerate these areas of contention in fiction.
    • Despite the relatively few people who read (or perhaps because of it), fiction writers carry an aurora of mystery and sexiness. But because writers are socially awkward (see point above), I am not expected to validate that illusion. It’s like having cake and eating it, too…in front of people who don’t read.
    • Drinking counts as career advancement.
    • In most cities there is at least one person willing to buy me a drink. I reciprocate, because I’m a swell guy, but usually I match their top-shelf with well. I can do that; remember, I am socially awkward.
    • When I scribble on napkins, voyeurs tend to assume I am capturing literary greatness. The fact is, when drawing boobies, the porous napkin paper pretty much draws the areola veins for me.
    • Some writers complain about people always approaching them with “surefire bestseller ideas.” I pretend to be upset. Then I steal their ideas. So far, no bestsellers among them. No, Ronald, the Mormon werewolf idea didn’t pan out…wait, dammit Stephenie Meyer!
    • Writing a list of lies for a blog post technically counts as story, as long as there is a narrative arc. So, that lazy character I mentioned in point #1, he grew up wealthy, but now he has cancer, and a violent mother, and his estranged wife doesn’t let him see his kids. He’s probably dead, too. Or his he? Dah Dah Daaahhhhhhhh…
    • What brings you back?

      What brings you back?

      Things need to change. I need to blog more. I need to have interesting things to say. Yes, that is the correct order for those last two items. Blogs, generally, are dumb. So many of them tend to be self-infatuated messes. The argument that this egotism is their exact purpose stands, true. So perhaps my contempt is like me at an orgy: so many people doing it must mean it’s fun, but every time I try one, I leave with a bad taste in my mouth. Gross.

      I read plenty of industry blogs, which I see as more an evolution of the commercial print world (magazines, trades, etc.) than as an evolution of the private world (diaries, journals, bathroom stalls). So, maybe I am meant simply to avoid the diaries and try to make this blog more about the industry.

      Problem: I don’t know much about “the industry.” I don’t even know what industry that would be. Publishing? Authoring? Is drinking an industry?

      [pullshow]I want to be useful. I want to provide valuable content to my 2.5 readers (I call them nuclear readers; when they comment on my posts, I call them nuclear reactors…get it…anyone…). A Platform is becoming an increasingly important part of a writer’s business arsenal. Think of a platform as a retarded term for group of buyers. Essentially, publishers want writers to have a market before a book is even contracted. Strange, I know. If I already had an audience, I would print and sell the book myself. (Already, I’ve stream-of-conscious-ing this thing; next step: decorate with Lisa Frank stickers and catch my older sister reading it).

      [pullthis]So my question is, what is useful? What is my unique knowledge?[/pullthis] Or if not that, what is the unique perspective I can offer? Here’s a list of possibilities:

      • I edit the OWC site, so I know some about small presses and “outsider” authors
      • I write fiction, so I know about lying
      • I have a lot of concepts for niche products, so I could give away million-dollar product ideas for free
      • I’m really good at eating pop-tarts. The trick is to turn them upside-down before eating, so that the icing touches your taste buds directly. Shit, there goes that blog post.
      • I know a little about podcasting
      • I once helped nurse a bird back to health after nearly hitting it with a lawn mower (yes, “nearly.” The bird was emotionally traumatized)
      • I marketed my debut story collection, Charactered Pieces, with a zero-dollar budget, so I know how to spend a lot of time not writing constructive fiction. Related: I blog

      Any of these sound good. Why do you, dear reader, come back to a blog? What would bring you back to me? (more…)

    • Caleb’s SNIPPETS OF TOMORROW (04/25/10)

      Caleb’s SNIPPETS OF TOMORROW (04/25/10)

      @ UnRonic, Stephen Krauska offers some truly amazing words about Charactered Pieces. There’s so much more than I deserve in the full review, so I urge you to click over the UnRonic to read everything. But here’s a snippet:

      Between his spectacular characters, interesting stories, excellent metaphors all held together with great imagery and vivid description, Ross is a must read. He’s young, fresh and down to earth enough to admittedly “steal” lyrics and write an “Acknowledgment” section that sounds more like a bonus story than a Hollywood awards speech. Keep an eye on him, he is bound to turn up more great work in the future.

      @Outsider Writers Collective – on the above note, there are only 23 copies of Charactered Pieces left of the entire 150 copy print run. I don’t think there are any plans to go into another print run anytime in the near future. Of course, .pdf and Kindle copies will be available for the foreseeable future. However, if you want a print copy, now would be the time to claim one. Click here to visit the purchase page at Outsider Writers Collective.

    • A reader, too?! What a double threat!

      A reader, too?! What a double threat!

      Jim Gaffigan is right (and is the source of this post’s title). We admire beauty above most else in this country (this world?), despite all that’s been taught by teachers (probably ugly teachers) and parents. Beauty shouldn’t be all that matters. As ethical beings, we should be able to look beyond physical appeal when evaluating our various options.

      But the one outlet that has for so long stood strong against the ravages of superficiality has come under attack as of late. Ugly people, you are no longer royalty in the world of novels. Katie Price, Courtney Thorne Smith, Lauren Conrad, Meg Tilly, Pamela Anderson, the list goes on. It’s only a matter of time before “chapters” will become a breast synonym and asking someone if they’ve read any good books lately will initiate locker-room tales of “creasing her spine until even used bookstores wouldn’t take her.”

      Bookselling is a business. Attractive people sell things. We understand that. But when the product being sold is cerebral, why does a beautiful spokesperson (which I argue is essentially what many of these celebrity novelists are; those with ghostwriters) even matter? Are cover bylines and dust-jacket photos really that sexy? Or are most of these “fair weather” readers simply retarded?

      The latter. Definitely. That’s not the question, here. The real question is whether or not it’s still feasible for authors to make a good living by writing intellectually stimulating literature without having the commercial backing of a celebrity or the commercial appeal of being a celebrity themselves. My hope, of course, is that if a book is artistically brilliant, it doesn’t need to be commercially brilliant; brilliant should sell intrinsically. But with that logic, I’m probably the retarded one.

      So what is this ugly author going to do? Become an accomplice. I’ve got a few completely finished novel manuscripts, ready to have a celebrity author name slapped across the cover and printed for much monetary gain. I’m serious. Contact me.