Cripes it’s been a long time since I’ve posted. Not much to say. I’m headed out of town soon for a long and hopefully magical camping trip in the wilds of Tennessee. Writing continues at a more sporadic pace than when I last checked in. Mostly I’ve been working on this big collage so I figured I’d post a picture of it. Have a good one!

Photo by Walter Kundzicz

Look out, I’m about to spew words about recent things I’ve consumed.

Netflix movies

Death Race 2000: Pretty goddamn brilliant. Proto-Starship Troopers-style sci-fi exploitation with a nice satirical bite. There’s a lot of Roger Corman productions on Netflix these days and I’m eating em up. The Big Bird Cage was another good one, also Switchblade Sisters. I love exploitation’s total embrace of excess and feeling: it’s horror, sex and violence congealed and lobbed right at your face. Which doesn’t always make it palatable, but at least it doesn’t pull any punches.

Theater movies

Gone: I saw this with a friend who has a thing for Amanda Seyfried. Afterwards I totally got it, because Seyfried turned in a great peformance. She was crafty, intense and unreadable. The movie kept me entertained. Low expectations are always a good thing. I loved Amanda Seyfried’s blue car.

We Need to Talk About Kevin: What a weird-ass movie. In fact it was best in its most weird and abstract moments. The problem was it was so fucking looong. I loved the fact that it was a movie about a school massacre where we won’t supposed to give a shit about the victims, it was all about the mom. It was a maternal horror story, but the horror stuff, especially toward the end, wasn’t punchy enough, it dragged and groaned. The brutal office party scene sticks with me, as does the opening sequence.

Books

The Hunger Games: Clearly readable, an achievement that one shouldn’t gloss over (even though I just did). I’m sure a million amateur pundits have weighed in on this already, but it’s truly a testament to how far we’ve come as a nation that an exploitation story about teenagers killing one another (and not having sex, of course) is one of our most popular stories among kids and adults. The romance was weak, as was the fact that they changed the rules halfway in. On the fence as to whether I’ll read the next two.

Champion, Photographs by Walter Kundzicz: I haven’t said much about my trip to New York a couple weekends ago, but geez, it was kinda brilliant and I kinda kicked some ass. I sold copies of Backwoods at the Rainbow Book Fair, and my table happened to face that of photographer Reed Massengill. After I got over my jealousy of how many books he was selling we had an enjoyable time in one another’s company. He has several books of photography and they’re pretty brilliant, erotic and human. But before the day was over I traded him one of my collages for this book of photographs, which he edited. It’s fantastic not only for the brilliant Kodachrome colors and hot dudes. Kundzicz has a sense of humor and poses his dopey muscle men with all kinds of esoteric fetish objects: football helmets, pitchforks, dish racks, eye patches, binoculars, telephones…the list is endless. It’s absolutely hilarious and unique.

Shirtlifter by Steve MacIsaac: I picked up several issues of this comic when I was Chicago some time ago and I’ve been meaning to write about it since. Anybody who enjoys stories of modern gay white men (re: Weekend) would do themselves a service to check these comics out, which are unflinchingly honest and crisply told. Lots of sex, though whether it’s erotic or not is sort of up for grabs. I’m more a fan of the strong, melancholy narration.

But seriously, it’s great to get recognition and I couldn’t be more excited. Wish me luck!

Hey NYC people! Come visit me at the Rainbow Book Fair this Saturday, March 24th, from 11am to 5:30pm at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center, 208 West 13th Street. I’ll be selling signed copies of ‘Backwoods’ along with zines and original collages.

It’d be nice if I wrote every day, but it’s also unrealistic if I want to maintain my full-time job and semblance of a social life. So I’ll skip a day or two, usually during the work week. If I skip writing for two days in a row I start to feel it, so I usually don’t skip three.

I was shooting for 1,000 words a day and actually meeting it, for a while. But I lost my mojo a bit over the past couple weeks, so I brought it down to 500 words a day. Done. Better to work less than not work at all.

When I skip a day I try to make up for it the next day, so that I’m still writing my requisite number of words per day. If I’m revising something I increase my per-day word count because revising isn’t as taxing on my attention as composing. I’ve been alternating frequently between composing new stuff and revising old stuff, and it’s good to know that I can switch easily between those two modes. Soon enough I’m going to be delving into revising a 30k word project, so that’ll be taking up most of my time for a good month or so (that’s ’691 Suburban Dr’).

Here’s an excerpt from a funny story I finished a couple weeks ago. I think the best ideas can be summed up in a sentence, and the one I came up with when I thought of the idea for this story was “cum as protein supplement for college gym bunnies.”

The other day Johnny came in to gym. I was at the desk, being a gym monitor, which is what I do for work – putting weights away, cleaning off machines.

Johnny was there to work out. He’s my bro. We have a couple classes together and he lifts as much as I do so we’re always hanging out.

I said something to him about his shoulders because they were looking good.

“I’m not juicing if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said.

“No, no,” I said. His shoulders looked uber pumped but Johnny didn’t seem like the steroid type. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Biff is one of our bros and he shoots up. It looks good on him, it’s just not for me. “I just meant, are you doing something different?” Johnny gave me this look.

“Not exactly. I’m doing supplements, but a different kind.”

“Ah okay,” I said. “Is it from GNC?” Johnny looked around. He leaned toward me and talked low over the clanking weights, whirring treadmills and grunts form the guys doing dead lifts on the other side of the room.

“I’m eating my jizz,” he said.

“What?” Johnny just laughed.

“I read about it on the internet. It’s protein, you know? And testosterone. I put it in with my shake.”

“Dude,” I said. Then I had to laugh. “That’s sick.”

“It’s natural. It’s, like, putting back in your body the helpful stuff that goes out when you cum.”

Johnny was still working out when my shift was done so I did some squats and bicep curls with him, then we hit the shower.

“So if it’s supposed to be so good for you, how come my girlfriend doesn’t get all pumped and jacked and shit when she swallows my load?” Johnny shrugged. He ran his soapy hands over his smooth and bulging torso.

“I’m not saying it’s a miracle. It’s just an extra boost. Plus, be real – how often does she really swallow your load, anyway?”

When I got home I tried to find the article on the internet that Johnny was talking about but I couldn’t. Still, it seemed like it sort of made sense. And actually, if I’m being honest about things, the idea of it sorta turned me on. I figured it couldn’t hurt, and Johnny was doing it anyway.

Me at the coffee shop right after I finished writing this post.

Thanks for voting in my poll! I look forward to writing about the bachelor party that everyone tries to forget. Maybe I need to watch ‘The Hangover’ to prepare – Bradley Cooper’s douche-tastic personality may take a concealed starring role in the finished story.

I’m working on thangs. Finished ’691 Suburban Dr’ a couple of weeks ago and I’m letting it sit for a few weeks more before I start revisions. It’s novella length and, I might as well warn you, features copious bisexuality. I don’t know how that’s going to go over with my regular readers, but what are you gonna do. I’ll probably talk more about it in the future, but it seems borne of a need to explore female characters. I like women! I’m tired of writing about dudes all the time, even if I do find them oh-so-fuckable.

While I’m waiting for the rough draft of ’691′ to cool I’m working on another project, this one a story collection tentatively titled ‘College Town USA.’ I’ve written notebooks full of stuff for it ever since I finished ‘Backwoods’ and now I’m getting down to revisions. It’s erotica, but a bit more experimental with regard to style and narrative. Not sure what I want to do with it yet, but it’s a nice thing to have on the back burner.

So yeah, I’m on a writing bender and it feels so good. Gonna ride this wave for as long as it lasts.

One thing I like to do on here from time to time is run a poll to decide what I should write next. I’ve done four of them in the past. This time, I’m taking the first runner up from each of those polls (mostly, I made one adjustment to keep the choices varied) and giving them a second chance.

So vote!