Rather than commissioning pieces, the fourth issue of Beat the Dust was open to all writers to submit work. No theme – anything was considered. So, expect blasphemy, a gravedigger in Disneyland, Mark Ronson having sex with Lady GaGa on a piano, a dwarf pissing on dolphins, an actual message in a bottle thrown off the Isle of Wight Ferry and a child killer. Yep, it's creamy literary goodness, folks.
O: Bad Company - Rock Steady P: Jeff Buckley - Corpus Christi Carol E: Foo Fighters - No Way Back N: Them Crooked Vultures - Interlude With Ludes 2: FFY - Kung Fu vs. Radio Astronomy 0: Kate Bush - Mrs Bartolozzi 1: Jay-Z Feat LaToya Williams - All Around The World 0: Biffy Clyro - That Golden Rule
Submission Date:
16 Jul 2010
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Sweeties Like Radioactive Worms
Excerpt:
A memorial pamphlet. Two cartoon strips, a photograph, and a recipe for Turkish coffee.
“For the perfect Turkish coffee use a fuller bodied bean such as Mysore, Brazilian or Guatemalan. Add these to a small milk pan of cold water so that there is just over three times as much water as there is coffee. Open three cardamom pods, checking that the seeds inside are black and podgy - the lighter, thinner ones are a bit like mouthwash and will spoil the taste...
O: Modest Mouse - Florida P: Morrissey - The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get E: The Ink Spots- I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire N: Beck - Asshole 2: Melvins - Night Goat 0: Eartha Kitt - I Want To Be Evil 1: Ministry - Lay Lady Lay 0: Andrew Jackson Jihad - Rejoice
Submission Date:
16 Jul 2010
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Pissing on Dolphins
Excerpt:
There used to be a house at Sunset beach that some hurricane flicked away with waves and wind. All that remained was the cement seawall and a set of stairs that led from the beach to the non-existent house. God was correcting the mistake that was Florida, one beachfront property at a time...
O: Tengo la Voz - Nortec Collective P: 300 Pounds Of Joy - Howling Wolf E: Arco Arena, Cake - Comfort Eagle N: Lupin The 3rd '78 - Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra 2: You Go To My Head - Bud Powell 0: Get Out My Life, Woman - Joe Williams 1: Andy's Chest - Lou Reed 0: Go Go Gadget Gospel - Gnarls Barkley
Submission Date:
16 Jul 2010
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Baby Monitor
Excerpt:
The baby monitor squeals and my hand jerks to it, pulling my mind out of a dreamless, unsteady sleep. Before I know where or who I am, I've pressed the receiver to my chest to muffle it and I'm counting off the steps from the bed to the source of my alarm. My baby daughter, May, is crying in the dark. Her voice rings in my head and down my stiff, aching back. It makes my stomach cramp and my veins clench. Something's wrong with my baby...
O: Frenz - The Fall P: Rococo - Cocteau Twins E: Don't Cry - Neil Young N: Kamikaze - PJ Harvey 2: Love in a Car - The House of Love 0: Mass Production - Iggy Pop 1: Daddy Died - Alan Vega 0: Several Girls Galore - My Bloody Valentine
Submission Date:
16 Jul 2010
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Wasteland
Excerpt:
By the edge of the park was an area where a railway had once been, but now it was cordoned off by a tall fence and dense with bushes and trees. One Sunday afternoon as Chris and I were playing out, Kenny, who was a couple years older, offered to take us over there to show us two secret underground bunkers he'd discovered. We weren't sure if we believed him, but all the same, it sounded interesting...
Tony on How Maria Lost Her Tooth: “This one is one of those weird stories that came out of nowhere. I always watch the people who dress up in goofy costumes outside Mann’s Chinese Theater and wonder what goes on in their private lives. I recall once seeing a dwarf dressed in a Chucky (Child’s Play) costume cursing out a tourist who tried to pick him up without asking permission first. The tourist kicked the dwarf and ran away, leaving Chucky laid out on the sidewalk.”
Submission Date:
15 Jan 2010
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
How Maria Lost Her Tooth
Excerpt:
At four o'clock Charlie Chaplin walked into The Frolic Room, on Hollywood Boulevard. He pushed the door open, bathing the startled afternoon drinkers in vicious white light. They screwed up their faces and blinked with eyes long used to beer light and cathode hum, then looked away until the door fell shut again. Chaplain adjusted to the gloom and sucked in the cool, stale air. His shirt was undone at the collar, the bow tie hanging askew, crushed hat in his hand, and his tattered jacket slung over his arm. His white face was melting away at the forehead, patches of pink dissolving through the pallor, the exposed neck and throat a different hue than the face...
Tony on Loving The Dead: “I wrote a whole series of stories set in various drug rehabs in LA, and they are collected in Notre Dame Du Vide, published by the French publishing house, 13e Note Editions. This is one of them.”
Submission Date:
14 Jan 2010
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Loving The Dead
Excerpt:
Word around the place was that Mercedes had died and come back, and now she believed she was immortal. I never heard it from her own lips, we spoke less than twenty words in the time I knew her, but I had the sense that not only did she believe this but that it was also true. She was beautiful in the way that only those possessed by immortality can be. I do mean, “Possessed by immortality”. One cannot possess immortality, nuh-huh, it happens the other way around. For thirty days, while my roommates snored, I silently conjured her face as I manipulated myself into orgasm. When I came I wept sometimes because I knew I could never have her. I was a mere mortal, bound by flesh and blood, and therefore superfluous to her needs...
Tony on The Heart Is A Small Amputated Thing: “Here is another story from the collection Notre Dame Du Vide published by my French publisher, 13e Note Editions, who’ve also published my novel Down And Out On Murder Mile.”
Submission Date:
14 Jan 2010
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
The Heart Is A Small Amputated Thing
Excerpt:
Carl was in the backseat, tearing open one of the black balloons with his teeth. He had the spoon balanced on his knees. He poured some Evian into the spoon and dropped a nugget of dope into the water. Nicole had the radio on. It was an 80’s flashback weekend again. Every weekend in LA seemed to be an 80’s flashback weekend. Rodney Bingeheimer started to play “Dead Man’s Party” by Oingo Boingo and Carl yelled, “Turn that shit off, you’re gonna kill my high"...
J: An Actor's Revenge (1963 – Kon-Ichikawa) A: In the Realm of the Senses (1976 – Nagisa Oshim) P: Tokyo Decadence (1992 – Ryu Murakami) A: Tetsuo II (1992 – Shinya Tsukamoto) N: I LOVE LORD BUDDHA (in pre-production)
Submission Date:
08 Dec 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Éclair/Chrysanthemum
Excerpt:
Mine is a strange business, but for those of us who look askance at capitalism, and frown upon it, any business is a strange business. We need to fill our stomachs too. I fill mine with steamed vegetables and roasted seeds, as looking svelte and underaged makes better sense in my business. Cruelty, betrayal, unfulfilled promises, and destruction—welcome to my world, the discreetly named Hannelise Associates. We help private detectives help divorce attorneys help women to strip men of their assets in the most advantageous ways possible...
Ultra-literary experimentalist and musician, Kenji Siratori's Top 5 Films:
J: Inland Empire (2006 – David Lynch) A: Naked Lunch (1991 – David Cronenberg) P: Saw (2004 – James Wan) A: Das Experiment (2001 – Oliver Hirschbiegel) N: The Cell (2000 – Tarsem Singh)
Submission Date:
08 Dec 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Lost Game
Excerpt:
...the mind of w gets twisted to...angel beginning that the future of the ADAM doll is made a zero. angel's machine stimulates outskirts of the memory of the sun of lumps of flesh...who bounce eerily in the cradle of iron dramatized so by the nightmare of the ADAM doll dog's brain replicant...hey, our cold brain space...infinity of the TOKAGE...PS heaven cranch...:the disillusionment of the despair machine and the dog of the desire beginning to that botany body of the ant. leap...girl...micro...homicide...system...a lot...noise...noise...miracle...the...hybrid...murderous intent...glance.
J: The Shining (1980 – Stanley Kubrick) A: Army of Darkness (1992 – Sam Raimi) P: The Exorcist (1973 – William Friedkin) A: Drag Me To Hell (2009 – Sam Raimi) N: Wolf Creek (2005 – Greg McLean)
Submission Date:
08 Dec 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
Garbagemen
Excerpt:
The three happiest countries in the world are: Number 1, Sweden; Number 2, Denmark; and Number 3, Finland.
This is not one of those countries.
How do I know what the happiest places on earth are? Well, I read about them in an article last week. And don’t think that just because I drive a garbage truck for a living, I don’t read the paper regularly...
B: Africa - Toto L: Big Five - Prince Buster A: Return of the Grievous Angel - Gram Parsons C: Itchycoo Park - The Small Faces K: Twisting the Night Away - Sam Cooke H: Be my Baby - The Ronettes E: Wouldn’t it be Nice? - The Beach Boys A: Personality Crisis - The New York Dolls T: In My Life - The Beatles H: Annie - Ronnie Lane and Slim Chance
Submission Date:
07 Oct 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
they are gods
Excerpt:
The hospital was five minutes walk from my cockroach-infested apartment. On the way I passed a model agency. Sometimes the models would be hanging around outside, both men and women. The men looked like homos or cardboard cut-outs, but the woman, ah, what long legs and pretty faces, and nice tits. However, they never even noticed me, not even a casual glance in my direction. I figured it was the uniform. Black and white stripes, like some prison get-up, accompanied by the look of the hunted...
Niven is one of the writers featured in the 3:AM: London, New York, Paris anthology. Here’s his Top 8 trax to enhance the changing room experience:
B: Tranny Chaser - RuPaul O: Get Sexy - Sugababes O: Lose My Breath - Destiny's Child K: Love Game (remix) - Lady Gaga S: Celebration - Madonna H: Oochie Coochie - Baby Ford O: Better Off As Two - Frankmuzik P: Ready for the Weekend - Calvin Harris
Submission Date:
05 Sep 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
urgent memo to all residents, happy house retirement community
Excerpt:
Dear Residents,
Following a further spate of unfortunate incidents on-site (i), I am regrettably writing to inform you of an addition to the rules of residence at Happy House Retirement Community, effective immediately...
Paul is the author of London Pub Reviews. Here’s his Top 8 book/shopping related playlist (including a few New Zealand bands. Go check ‘em out cos they’re Xmas, apparently):
B: The Man In The Iron Mask - Billy Bragg O: Fear & Loathing - Loves Ugly Children O: Snow White Chook - Able Tasmans K: Hey Seuss - 3D's S: Burroughs Don't Play Guitar - Islamic Diggers H: Counterpoint - Darren Price O: Wuthering Heights - Kate Bush P: O Superman - Laurie Anderson
Submission Date:
05 Sep 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
glass
Excerpt:
After a long day at his ridiculous job, Wayne arrived at a Clerkenwell pub to kick back.
Much of the bar area was crowded with small groups of men and women, many holding drinks out in front of themselves like microphones, commentating on news, sports and the arts. A loose collection of people were making their way upstairs, so Wayne decided to follow these people, spilling ale on the stairs as he went, even though it was his first drink...
Steve Aylett is the author of Lint. Here’s his Top 8 non-book/shopping-related playlist:
B: Slow - My Bloody Valentine O: Theme to Slaying Beauty - Bambi Molesters O: D - Codeine K: Deathwhisker - The Naysayer S: Poptones - PIL H: Gen - Cardiacs O: Destroy Everything You Touch - Ladytron P: Carbon Monoxide - Regina Spektor
Submission Date:
05 Sep 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
evernemesi
Excerpt:
Jeff Lint was told he wrote as if Moby Dick had never been published, to which he responded that most people lived as if it hadn’t. Did Melville think trouble was scarce? Captain Ahab went out of his way to find a whale to cope with, but the one time I met a whale it made itself easily available on the beach and we had trouble dealing with its requests – we’d expected it to ask for water or money, but all it said was it wanted to listen to the radio because that was part of its normal routine at this time of day...
B: For Those About To Rock, We Salute You – AC/DC (Yay, high culture meets hard rock!) O: Every Day I Write The Book – Elvis Costello O: The Book I Read – Talking Heads K: Wuthering Heights – Kate Bush S: 1984 – David Bowie H: Parklife – Blur (only good thing to come out of a Martin Amis novel as far as I’m concerned) O: Brave New World – Iron Maiden P: Fairytale of New York – The Pogues & Kirsty MacColl (nearly as good as finding the AC/DC tie in!)
Submission Date:
05 Sep 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
eire
Excerpt:
She gazes from her green corner. This isn’t the right place for her, and she knows it. Personification is a tricky business: take the harp. She’s leaning on it, it’s meant to be integral to the embodiment of Ireland, but it’s more like a prop for a tired arm: a washerwoman drooping over the tub, that’s what she looks like...
I hope to write a great New Zealand novel, following the lead of Janet Frame, Witi Ihimaera, Keri Hulme and others. I wish I’d written a Zucker brothers script, such as one of the Airplane screenplays, or more specifically the semi-obscure masterpiece, Top Secret. The poem I wish I'd written is The Magpies by Denis Glover, and the song in my head is Spike Milligan's Q5 Piano Tune.
Submission Date:
08 May 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
rox by Paul Ewen
Excerpt:
I was lying across a wooden bench in Ruskin Park, talking to myself about baking a tasty cake, and excitedly stomping my feet on the flat, wooden planks, when I felt something hairy rub against my dangling arm.
It was a medium-sized brown dog, and its tongue was out, and it seemed pretty excited. I leaned across to scratch its head and the back of its neck and behind its ears, and it laughed.
Steve Finbow identifies the novel/play/poem/song he wishes he’d written
I wish I had written lots of things. Even my own stuff. Started earlier. Worked harder. Kathy Acker’s Blood and Guts in High School. Buzzcocks’ Breakdown. Television’s Little Johnny Jewel. Any poems by Ted Berrigan, Clark Coolidge, Charles Bernstein, & Tom Raworth. 2666 by Roberto Bolańo.
Submission Date:
08 May 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
reading instructions by Steve Finbow
Excerpt:
They had to restrain me. Give me some kind of sedative. And it had all started so calmly. Hold on. Let me think. That could be so different. They had to restrain me, give me some kind of sedative, and it had all started so calmly. That’s better. Or is it? The first has an imperative feel. Direct. Urgent. They had to restrain me. Fact. Am I still restrained? If I am, then the sympathy is with me, the empathy. If not, I have escaped, I am the hero, the revenger. If they let me go, then where am I? Hiding in a broom closet? Beneath a table? In the boot of your car? Could this be a tale from beyond the grave, a manuscript found hidden under the thin mattress, written on sheets of toilet paper using blood as ink, a tongue depressor for a pen?
Will Ashon identifies the novel/play/poem/song he wishes he’d written
Novel: Turning To Glue by Marty Ackermann. Coruscating sixties expose of the glue industry written in an invented dialect from the point of view of a glue brush. Poor Ackermann committed suicide a year later. Or did he? Literary conspiracy theorists point to the involvement of vested Big Glue interests.
Play/script: Stick Up by Marty Ackermann. Early play from the teenage Ackermann. Dismissed as juvenilia by academe, it eerily foretells his death by head-in-glue-pot and, though the dialogue is boring, repetitive and unrealistic, has a rhythm which the mature Ackermann would make his own.
Poem: Too Attached by Muriel Felt. An expressionist narrative work written in sestinas by Felt - Ackermann's lover and muse - shortly after his death.
Song: Sticky Ends by Cosmic Binding. The high point of Ackermann and Felt's journey into psychedelic rock. Ackermann's four minute, one note guitar solo has to be heard to be believed.
Submission Date:
08 May 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
muslims and bankers by Will Ashon
Excerpt:
The Muslims were thrilled about the banking crisis. It took the heat off them. But then again, they felt bad about the Bankers, who seemed like a nice enough bunch of people.
The Muslims decided to have the Bankers to dinner. The Bankers were more than a little surprised. They’d had very little good to say about the Muslims for a number of years now. But then again, they were lonely so they cancelled their reservations and set off for the Muslims’ hut.
Joseph Ridgwell identifies the novel/play/poem/song he wishes he’d written
The song I'd like to have written is The Ten Commandments by Prince Buster, as I often recite the lyrics to my new girlfriends. I never wish to have written a play because they are crap. Novel? Only my own, which I have. Pome? So We’ll Go No More A-Roving. You know, Byron wasn't a very good poet, but he lived the life of a poet in all its romantic glory, plus he shagged, whored, and drunk untold and had lots of adventures. I wished I'd written this pome because 1. It isn't totally original. See the traditional Scottish poem, The Jolly Beggar, or the traditional sea shanty, The Maid of Amsterdam, 2. It's beautiful, and 3. I think I probably was George Gordon in another life, and so I probably did write it.
Submission Date:
08 May 2009
Category:
Short story
In Chap-book
Title:
the assassination egg by Joseph Ridgwell
Excerpt:
It was a grey, non-descript Sunday evening and I was resting in my beat apartment, sucking on an ice-cold beer, when the buzzer sounded.
As I had alienated all my friends years ago, I picked up the hand-set somewhat reluctantly, hoping it wasn’t the Jehovah’s Witnesses, again.
Will Ashon (cunningly disguised as Ranulph Fiennes) fakes his own obituary
Will Ashon died. A little later he began to stink.
Submission Date:
06 Mar 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
doorsteps
Excerpt:
He had probably only realised the following morning, when he made his first call and nothing came. Up until then there was no reason for him to have spoken. He had driven back from the second day of the seminar to the flat he lived in alone, microwaved the ready meal he had bought the Thursday before, had a shower, perhaps masturbated – judging by the quantity of DVDs, he liked to masturbate – and then gone to bed. In the morning he had got up, showered again, had breakfast, gone out to his car and driven to his designated patch. And that was the first time he would have tried to speak since the previous afternoon...
Darran Anderson offers sartorial advice to those in the know
Given that you’ve recently slated Prada bags and wet-look leggings, what are Darran Anderson's tips for what’s hot next season? This summer is all about the comeback of Great Depression chic. Homeless people burning money under arches and bankers throwing themselves off rooftops. People paying to sleep on a piece of rope. The wardrobe staples for any discerning fashionista about town should include spiked cod-pieces and plague masks. Sweatbands and waistcoats are a real fashion no-no but glass eyes and catheters are must haves. Shave your own receding hairline for that added edge.
And accessories Well it’s the little lifestyle choices that can transform high street into high art. And nothing’s more important to us girls than our shoes. This time, think Oriental. Ditch the salsa and you’ll find plenty of night classes in foot-binding the length and breadth of the country. Why not make a night of it, a few drinks, take a friend hobbling and use the vice to add some spice?
Ugg boots – fashion faux pas or so not, they’re hot? I killed a cow once. It was in Malin Head. I don’t know why but I did. We were camping and no one was speaking anymore and I got this big rock and threw it off the cliff and it landed on a cow and it scuttled about on the rocks with a dent in its side. For three days, I could barely piss with fear that the farmer would murder us as we slept.
Submission Date:
06 Mar 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
done and dusted
Excerpt:
...Eventually the light brought them out into a lost station. There were numbered turnstiles rusted shut. A cherry cola machine long pillaged. A strange teutonic eagle plaque on a tiled wall; some secret hideout for aging Mengeles who never made it along the ratlines in time. All around it were graffiti scrawls, half-mad tangles of letters and numbers. Hieroglyphs to be deciphered when everything crumbles, when the cityscape above collapses in on itself and we all turn to dust and those who come next will try and work out what the fuck we were about and this is what they’ll find left. The flotsam and jetsam of civilisation. Stay High 149. Taki 183. Taeko 170. A sacrophagus in the land of the pharaohs. Only one word made sense on that makeshift wailing wall though it’s meaning and context was unknown. How would they interpret fuck sprayed in three feet silver letters?...
Paul Ewen is interviewed by a barman in a South London pub
Barman: Why do you keep moving your glass about the bar? Paul Ewen: I'm making a pattern with the condensation rings. Barman: What sort of pattern? PE: Well, I started with the Olympic rings, but now I'm making a lovely loop-chain necklace. Barman: The Olympics were really something, weren't they? PE: I don't know. Barman: Didn't you watch them? PE: No. Sport's for kids. Barman: What's that? PE: Sport's for kids. Barman: "Sport's for kids." Is that right? So what... PE: Look, matching earrings! Barman: Hmm. Don't you have a home to go to?
It’s often said that a few bars of a song can instantly resurrect deep, well-hidden memories, and now whenever I hear ‘The Riddle’ by Nick Kershaw, a lump forms in my throat like a ball of wet bread and I’m back at the Forester pub.
MS: Where are you conducting this interview? MS: In the desert, outside Tucson, Arizona. MS: Do you ever talk about the creative process? MS: Never. It’s bad luck. Anybody worth his salt knows that. MS: What’s the best book you’ve read recently? MS: Lunes De Fiel by Pascal Bruckner. MS: Isn’t that a bit politically incorrect? MS: I like politically incorrect French novelists. I can’t help it. MS: The best movie you’ve seen in the past few weeks? MS: Well now, let me think. There were two: Hitchcock’s Frenzy, again. Most critics don’t realize it, but that’s his masterpiece. The other was From The Lives Of The Marionettes, Ingmar Bergman. Again. It’s one of his least known, but one of his very best. MS: What about plays? You’re a playwright, aren’t you? MS: None. Plays are much too expensive nowadays. MS: What music do you listen to? MS: Besides myself, the classics, movie soundtracks, great popular music. MS: What great contemporary music do you recommend? MS: The popular song did not survive the sixties, so I don’t know what to say. MS: Is your life interesting or dull? MS: Excruciatingly dull. Good writers experience life, then live very drab existences and do nothing but write about what they’ve endured. Why do you think the vast majority of young writers are no good and have nothing to say? MS: Someone told me you love animals. MS: I’m guilty of that, yes. MS: What’s the most beautiful animal in the world? MS: The rhinoceros viper or river jack. I defy anyone to show me a more beautiful beast. MS: But aren’t they deadly? MS: If beauty weren’t lethal, would it be beauty?
Submission Date:
07 Feb 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
loners, the new short story collection by Mark SaFranko, reviewed by Joseph Ridgwell
Excerpt:
I’ve always been a voracious reader, always on the look out for exceptional books that encourage you to look at the world in a different light, get you thinking and wondering, and maybe even change your life. But let’s face it books like that are incredibly rare, hard to track down, and once you hav...
The following is an extract of the Tony O'Neill interview that appeared in the December 2008 issue of Dazed & Confused. In true rebel style, it is reproduced without permission from the original source.
D&C: What’s it like to have your work published by such a big [publishing] house? TO’N: Surreal. Nobody would touch Digging the Vein with a ten-foot pole, which was difficult because I’d made writing my last shot. My career in music was over. I had never finished my education. I had never held down a job. I had a raging drug habit. I really felt that if I couldn’t follow through on this book, I might as well jump out of a window. The only other alternative was to give up and get a straight job and that frightened me more than the idea of death.
D&C: Doesn’t signing to Harper conflict with The Brutalists’ ideals? TO’N: Oh no, not at all. I mean, The Brutalists are not working so that their work can remain in the shadows. My agenda as a member of The Brutalists is exactly the same as my agenda as a writer – to get the work out there. No movement should be about preaching to the converted. Our books should be taught in schools. They should be left in hotels instead of the Gideon Bible.
Submission Date:
10 Jan 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
waiting for cj
Excerpt:
Walking up the street towards CJ’s place with the dope-sweat soaking through my T-shirt and my underwear, breathing ragged and hard under the unforgiving sun. There are no footpaths around here. Los Angeles is not designed for pedestrians. I hear the crunch of gravel...
Niven Govinden either did a Mama Cass or disco'd til he dropped. In the afterlife he continues to plug his novels 'We Are The New Romantics' and 'Graffiti My Soul.’
Submission Date:
10 Jan 2009
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
beard boy fashionista
Excerpt:
You have a beard because it makes them uncomfortable, unless it’s small children, who think that you’re some sort of pirate. Actually, you have a beard because you can’t be chumped to shave, and because it’s how the boys are wearing their faces in this month’s L’Uomo Vogue, a reference that seems to...
Kevin O’Cuinn, writer, architect of Kevsville & man about Frankfurt asks Steve three questions:
1. How did/Did working for Allen Ginsberg change how/what you wrote?
It didn’t. Not really, Kev. To be perfectly honest, I admire Allen the man more than Allen the poet. I’m more influenced by Clark Coolidge, Charles Bernstein & Bruce Andrews. I suppose what I did learn was that if you call yourself a “writer” then you must spend the majority of your time/life writing, thinking about writing & reading. Hard work – Allen worked harder than any writer I know/have known. Bob Rosenthal said to me, “The world’s become a lot worse since Allen died” – or something like that. & I agree. We need someone like Allen to bravely confront the bullshit.
2. 20m squid for Robbie Keane, you must be sick as. If you could replace him with anyone, who’d you pick?
Lionel Messi, (if we had a footie Tardis) Diego Maradona or Peter Beardsley – all perfect foils for Torres’ genius.
3. You’re an en dash type of fella. Why not the em?
I am, aren’t I? I prefer the en dash – I like the gaps either side, that microscopic expansion of time & space. The near death of the long sentence upsets me; I enjoy the expansion of thought semi-colons allow, the rhythmic pulse of the comma & the ability of the en dash – delicate but forceful – to slow the reader down, make them think about what they’re reading; whereas the em dash—big & brutal—slams home the point that we’re digressing somewhat. Make a new sentence.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part one
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part one of his story, click the play button .
Toby Litt, author of I Play the Drums in a Band Called Okay, Hospital, & deadkidsongs, asks Steve:
I know you knew Allen Ginsberg. I’m interested whether or not you’d go along with his teaching – “First thought, best thought”? Do you think that rewriting detracts from the purity of original intention?
I worked for Allen Ginsberg in the late eighties/early nineties, as a researcher, archivist, & editor, writing (with Allen’s constant input) some of the prose (blurbs, references, short essays) that people, institutions, & publications asked Allen for. I also typed up Allen’s poems onto the computer. In so doing, I realized that Allen’s “first thought, best thought”– although technically correct (Allen would usually compose short poems in one sitting & longer ones over a period of time with very little editing) – was not strictly true, he would edit & make notes & corrections before being happy with a final draft – as one can see in the original manuscript of Howl. The spontaneous mind is important to Beat creativity: the texts of On the Road, Kaddish – written over a 40-hour period – Naked Lunch – assembled from letters & routines – are all works of primary spontaneity. But the Beats knew they were the butt-end of high modernism & they were all very aware of their literary roots & of their part in history in the making (Allen saved everything, & I mean everything). Editing & revising poems (Allen also helped to edit Naked Lunch) does not distract from the basic tenet: “first thought, best thought.” Edits & revisions are appendages to the original principle. Fellow Lower East Side poet Ted Berrigan said something like, “Get it down,” & so the answer to the second part of the question is, I’m not sure any of my or any other writers’ thoughts are pure, I’m not sure we intend to think that way, & I’m certain that none of our thoughts are original. Rewriting and editing are means to recover vision, imagination, & inspiration in logic – translating those spontaneous & personal thoughts into a communicative language understood by others, not just by the poet/writer. Don’t forget Burroughs considered himself a host for the word virus, a communicating vessel.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part two
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part two of his story, click the play button .
Stephen Barber, author of Antonin Artaud: Terminal Curses, Tokyo Trilogy, & Projected Cities: asks Steve:
What kind of sensorial & ocular impact would you like your readers to experience in their contact with your writing – & what kind of in-built survival strategy do your writings have in order to endure a coming apocalypse?
I want people to smell the words. I enjoy writing that is physical in its effect – Pierre Guyotat’s relentlessness, the poetry of Charles Reznikoff & Louis Zukofsky, or the theoretical writings of Gilles Deleuze. I like sentences with heft, paragraphs with brute force, a chapter that smacks you in the mouth, a book that bludgeons you with its genius. Sentences are visual – whether Hemingway’s minimalist masterpieces, Proust’s epic wordscapes, or the brain worms created while reading the works of Alain Robbe-Grillet. Chew them over. Sometimes they’re as light as gossamer sorbets, sometimes it’s like chewing toffee laced with cocktail sticks. In-built survival strategy? Humour, a commitment to now, a tanker full of Stella, & a gold-plated Purdy for those pesky post-apocalyptic critics. I’m waiting for you, Michiko Kakutani.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part three
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part three of his story, click the play button .
Stewart Home, film-maker, artist & author of Red London, Blow Job & Memphis Underground, asks Steve:
Do you think the quality of English language fiction writing has declined in comparison to the mid-to-late twentieth century? & if the answer is yes, is this because there is a freer availability of other material (computer games, films & music on download & DVD) or do other factors play an important role? If the answer is no, how do we find that good writing because it seems difficult to locate?
Woah! Maybe the standard of publishing has declined. I’ve said before that I doubt very much whether Samuel Beckett, BS Johnson, or Ann Quin would find a publisher if they were writing today. I’m going to say ‘no’. If there is more ‘media’ availability, such as computer games etc., then that has to be included in the writing process – fiction writing didn’t all of a sudden lapse into retardation after the invention of the steam engine or television. The end of the world for me is always the conclusion to Mill on the Floss: “Nothing else was said; a new danger was being carried toward them by the river. Some wooden machinery had just given way on one of the wharves, and huge fragments were being floated along. The sun was rising now, and the wide area of watery desolation was spread out in dreadful clearness around them; in dreadful clearness floated onward the hurrying, threatening masses.” Published in the same year as the first sound recording of a human voice was made, this paragraphic deluge heralds the oncoming industrial age, the introduction and urbanization of the working classes, the invention of childhood, the commodification of leisure and pleasure, yet it didn’t retard the development of Henry James, DH Lawrence, Henry Miller, or Alain Robbe-Grillet. As for locating good writing, well, unfortunately in this era of mass communication it is mostly through word of mouth, & follow-up research, & referencing. Through your own work, I discovered the aforementioned Ann Quin, plus Pierre Guyotat & Dennis Cooper. From the suggestions of others, I’ve read Tom McCarthy, William T. Vollmann & Kenji Nakagami. & then there are the small publishers who have the balls to publish “good” inventive & experimental fiction writers – publishers such as Alma, Book Works, Creation & Wrecking Ball Press.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part four
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part four of his story, click the play button .
Chris Killen, author of The Bird Room, asks Steve:
Please describe an ‘average day’ in the life of Steve Finbow if Steve Finbow was a cat.
I wake around 6 am & nuzzle my mistress’ thighs. Reon Kadena – for it is she who refreshes my kitty litter – rises, slips on her dressing gown, drops me into the silk holster of her pocket as if I were some furry pistol, & prepares me a breakfast of scrambled eggs, smoked salmon & truffle oil. I prowl around our roof garden in Rio de Janeiro, cruelly dissecting but not eating any small birds stupid enough to land there. While marking my territory, I occasionally sip imported Sapporo Classic from my platinum drinking bowl. Later, I slink up onto the Le Corbusier two-seater sofa & into my mistress’ lap, let her long carmine nails tickle my taut belly. I rub my head on the underside of her black lace bra, sniff the air for the tang of leather from her black knee-length boots & purr, “Just a bit lower, Reon. Bit more.”
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part five
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part five of his story, click the play button .
Paul Ewen, writer of London Pub Reviews, asks Steve:
Have you had any interesting dreams lately?
I dream a lot. I have recurring dreams in which I am unable to call people on the phone. The phone is made of jelly, or it is so large I don’t have the power to press the keys, or its dial is a starfish, etc. Communication issues, I’m sure. I dream about cities & moving about them. I hover a lot in my dreams. Rarely fly. I have long, narrative dreams that stop & start either side of getting up to go to the toilet. The other night, I had a dream about ladyboys & Chihuahuas – nuff said.
David Peace, author of Tokyo Year Zero, The Damned Utd, & GB84 asks Steve:
What book will you buy me for Christmas?
Ooh, cheeky. Well, that’s a hard one because I know you have a lot of books. My first instinct says, Violence by Slavoj Žižek or Julian Cope’s Japrock Sampler but it will probably be a toss up between Roberto Bolańo’s 2666 & 50 Drawings to Murder Magic by Antonin Artaud. Or both.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part six
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part six of his story, click the play button .
Hillary Raphael, neo-geisha & author of I (Heart) Lord Buddha & Ximena, asks Steve:
Why are such a disproportionately large number of literary theorists into sadomasochistic sex?
Yeah, why is that? Let’s see. Well, theorists create a power exchange through text – their text subverts & supplants the master text. Some critics – Dale Peck for example – inflict pain & humiliation on their subjects – poor Rick Moody. Jacques Derrida’s work is almost algolagnic in its enjoyment of literary and generic dissection – look at The Post Card. Both literary theory & S/M (S/Z – Barthes) are means of control. The theorist/critic treats the author/work as if they/it were a masochist. The original master text rejected in favour of the slave-now-master text. Critic as sadist – the deferred death of the author. Look at the complementary relationship between critic & writer, theory & text – violent love – a transformation from slave to master. In Deleuzean terminology: The Contract: how one person controls the other, sexual enjoyment through delayed gratification – or Différance in Derridean terms – the infinite delay of the signified – master/slave, signifier/signified, author/theorist. The perfect fit is in Sartre’s theories of sadism & masochism: the work of the author subjected to the “abyss of the Other’s (i.e. the theorist’s) subjectivity” – Being & Nothingness. Or the ultimate sadomasochistic/theoretical acts – Maurice Blanchot’s escape from a Nazi firing squad in 1944, Michel Foucault out for the night in San Francisco (Death and the Labyrinth), or Nietzsche eating his own faeces.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part seven
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading part seven of his story, click the play button .
Oliver Harris, author of William Burroughs & the Secret of Fascination & editor of The Yage Letters: Redux, Junky: The Definitive Text of ‘Junk’, & The Letters of William S. Burroughs 1945-1959 asks Steve:
How much of your writing/ideas – & what kind of writing/ideas – come(s) to you in that special interzone just before sleep?
I fall asleep quickly. I sleep well but I don’t sleep for long – six hours – it used to be four or five. But there is that period just before sleep – & also just before going under a general anaesthetic – where reality blurs, & that is an important source of images – after all, Andre Breton claimed a hypnagogic experience as the basis of Surrealism. I’d say about ten percent of my interzone experiences make it into my writing: that vision of a city which is always New York City, Liverpool, & the Thames at Staines. The roads leading down steep hills to the river. But the majority of my writing comes to me on walks, daydreams, snippets of dialogue, overheard conversations, strange sights, things found in the street, matter reconstituted into anti-matter – the very stuff of ideas. I’m an “autistic realist”.
Submission Date:
06 Dec 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
down among the dead - part eight
Excerpt:
To listen to Steve Finbow reading the final part of his story, click the play button .
HP Tinker passed away suddenly last week after choking on a walnut. A collection of critical essays, "I Used To Be A Postmodernist (But Now I'm Not So Sure)", will be published posthumously late next year. A novel, "Of Men & Ampersands", will be written posthumously even later next year. In accordance with his final wishes, HP Tinker's ashes will be scattered over Audrey Tautou while she isn't looking.
Submission Date:
03 Nov 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the girl who ate new york
Excerpt:
Her face eschewed the acknowledged ethos of winter, even mid-June.
As small and sad-haired as the young Mickey Rooney himself, she was conceived in the Riviera by a six-fingered philanthropist. Her front teeth were sharp enough to pierce clean through a grown man’s boot. Displayin...
Darren R. Scothern, 2109-2008 - forgettable poly-metamorph, who came into existence via his own imagination. Emerging from a cocoon 99 years after his death, he lived his life in reverse after mistakenly assuming the universe was contracting rather than expanding. This had the unfortunate effect that he lost friends before he met them, and influenced people before he had the chance to reap the benefits. Living his life in Shame (a village near Bognor Regis), he resided in a delicately whorled shell strapped to his back with a neural net. He leaves behind a trail of glistening slime.
Submission Date:
03 Nov 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
inside the box
Excerpt:
"Why did you do it Melanie?" Her father tried to fix his eyes on her face. She avoided them. The brittle sunlight needling through the window bleached the view of the grounds outside, but in here it pitilessly picked out every detail. He hadn't shaved,...
Lit Jam writer 1, Matthew Coleman writes his own mock obituary:
Matthew Coleman was a London based director, writer and editor. He had recently shot a number of music videos and was working on various books and artistic projects, including the forthcoming OffBeat Generation anthology. He was outlived by his erotic poetry and fiction, which can be found mourning the loss of its creator at the Provocative Pages.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas?
Excerpt:
‘In an act of desperation, Ed stuck a pin in the map, but when he opened his eyes, oddly, his first thought was not how the hell was he going to get to Kansas City, but rather, who was the poor bastard he'd just stabbed to death there with his pin.’
Lit Jam writer 2, Darran Anderson writes his own mock obituary:
The Irish writer, raconteur, drinker of note and social misfit, Darran Anderson has died following an incident in a Turkish bathhouse. His autopsy revealed that, though he was a mere 27 years of age, he had the body of a 73 year old Chinese lady. His liver had shrivelled through years of abuse to the size and dimensions of a badly-made counterfeit leather wallet. His brain consisted mainly of chicken feathers and bits of old comic books. His heart appeared to be made from the blackest stone. He reputedly spent his days alternating between periods of morose melancholy and the telling of elaborate lies and slanders. He was no stranger to the disreputable alehouses of sailor towns. Contrary to idle drunken boasts, he never learnt to play the violin. Neighbours said he kept to himself and was rarely seen, bar occasionally digging up his patio in the middle of the night. He is mourned by few. He asked only that his life’s-worth collection of poems, stories, prospective novels, articles and assorted ramblings be sent to a publisher posthumously. Sadly due to a clerical error they were instead sent for incineration. Pray for his soul.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
Deep in thought, Ed didn’t hear the lock go or the steps across the floorboards.
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus fucking Jones, don’t do that!”
“Sorrrry,” she sighed, dropping her bag and coat on the floor.
He hastily bundled the papers under the table, his face flushed with...
Lit Jam writer 3, Ben Myers writes his own mock obituary:
Ben Myers was born in the cathedral city of Durham in the same year as punk rock. A promising career as a long distance runner and amateur boxer were dropped in favour of academic studies and he completed a degree in English Literature. At the age of 21 he relocated to London and became the staff writer for the now defunct Melody Maker, and also began publishing short stories and poems. At 23 he became a freelance writer and travelled extensively interviewing some of the world's biggest bands for a variety of publications. His first book - a collection of journalism - was published in 2002, followed by his debut novel The Book Of Fuck. From 2003-2008 he ran the independent record label Captains Of Industry and wrote a number of music biographies, translated into a number of languages. Along with Adelle Stripe and Tony O'Neill he formed the Brutalists, a back-to-basics poetry movement, published a collection of his own Spam e-mail inspired works through Blackheath Books and contributed to a variety of magazines and anthologies, including The Guardian, Mojo, Bizarre and 3:AM. He had recently completed two novels.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
They walked back in silence, Ed with the holdall slung over his shoulder, Jen trying to forget about the creepy guy and the itch on her leg.
Maybe the itch was ringworm, she thought. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.
Jen was sick of walking everywhere. It took the...
Lit Jam writer 4, Chris Killen writes his own mock obituary:
Chris Killen was born in 1981 in Kenilworth, Warwickshire. He was interested in things like small birds, moustaches, cats, etc. He wrote one novel called The Bird Room which got to 513,000 sales rank on Amazon (pre-order) before being deleted by Canongate Books one month before its January 2009 publication date. Small excerpts of the novel can still be found on The Bird Room website. Chris also wrote a blog called Day of Moustaches, until it was taken down due to complaints, after Chris' 'humorous' 100-step plan to destroy it, culminating in the posting of a large, high resolution digital photograph of his tiny, microwaved penis. Chris spent the remainder of his life working (unpaid) in the gardens of country houses, feeding small bits of bread to swans, until one of them broke his arm and he lay there and eventually died. That was in 2012. Chris' gravestone has the phrase 'I'm sorry' written on it, which is probably a reference to something.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
In Kansas, a man is lying on the floor, not moving very much. The man needs to go to the toilet. The man doesn’t get up and go to the toilet though. Toilets remind him of the woman. Pretty much everything in the small house reminds him of the woman. He decides what to do about his toilet problem. He...
Lit Jam writer 5, Paul Kavanagh writes his own mock obituary:
Paul Kavanagh lived in Charlotte. He was a shit. His wife is very happy.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
Dorothy vacuumed up the dog. She didn’t intend to. She was doing Eddy’s job. Eddy was such a lazy god-damn dreamer. The dog must have been asleep and in her path. At least it wasn’t the kid. The Dyson didn’t even groan, not a whisper. The engine just hummed monotonously.
Lit Jam writer 6, Tony O’Neill writes his own mock obituary:
The author Tony O'Neill died today, aged 89 years old, following a high speed car crash. Toxicology reports found that he was under the influence of a variety of illegal substances when his vehicle veered off the road and crashed into a dynamite factory. Following the collision, his ashes were spread over a 100-mile radius. A memorial service will be held in Gold Diggers, a strip club on Santa Monica Boulevard, Los Angeles.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
Casanova’s bar. Neon Santa Claus by the cigarette machine and sad, half-dead garland lights pinned to the wall with malformed nails. The place is almost deserted. It is two o’clock in the afternoon.
Eddie staggers out of the toilet, holding his gut. ...
Lit Jam writer 7, Steve Finbow writes his own mock obituary:
Steve Finbow, who has died age 47 after a long battle with Perfectionism (a variant strain of Bighead disease), lived an exemplary life of chastity and temperance. At the age of two, Finbow invented a mechanism that transmuted thoughts into the written word. Neglecting to submit a patent, his invention became public property resulting in the things we call novels, short stories, and poetry. Although stalked throughout his life by women such as Kate Moss, Natalia Vodianova, Aishwarya Rai, and Reon Kadena, Finbow remained strictly celibate preferring the company of flowers and plants at his home in Cork. His novels such as The Dark Side of Summer, You Gave Me Jell-O When I Wanted Jam, and I’ve Had So Much Bad Luck Lately If I Bought A Circus My Dwarves Would Begin To Grow topped the bestseller lists throughout the world and were translated into 6,800 languages including Khomani, of which there are only ten surviving speakers. At the age of 40, he turned down the Nobel Prize for Literature, his reason being that he saw one of the Swedish judges drinking a can of Stella Artois – something anathema to his Tee-totalitarianism. He is survived by his Siamese cats Poe and Dickens. Steven David Finbow, writer, born January 22 1961; died October 3rd 2008.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
Eddy slaps his right ear with the heel of his right hand.
“What are you doing?” Dorothy asks. She’d come downstairs to see why Eddy’d been shouting at the phone.
“I got this sorta buzzing gnawing situation going on.”
“Maybe you picked up an infection from the phone.”...
Lit Jam writer 8, Lee Rourke writes his own mock obituary:
Lee Rourke lived an ordinary life. One day, mid-way through his 4th decade, he met the love of his life. Together, they did ordinary things spectacularly well.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
‘At this time of the morning, the city sounded like an orchestra tuning up.’
Jen remembers Ed saying something like this to her, as he hung out the window listening to the hustle and bustle below. She immediately thought it sounded phoney. She much preferred the sound of the sea anyway. But s...
Lit Jam writer 9, Jenn Ashworth writes her own mock obituary:
The first reports of suspicious circumstances surrounding the ‘death’ of Jenn Ashworth have been published. It seems in the time preceding the grisly discovery of her decomposed remains, Jenn made several large purchases of waterproof material and, in another bizarre twist to this case, a large Ali-Baba style laundry basket. There are also rumours of eye-witness reports describing strange lights and fires in the woods, floating objects in the night sky, and continued attempts to publish Jenn’s later, darker works of fiction via a number of anonymous online proxies, e.g. jennashworth.blogspot.com. Amid this confusion, rumours grow that she is not dead at all, but flying somewhere over the North of England in a self-constructed hot air balloon. Which begs the question – just who was discovered rotting gently, stinking sweetly, softening silently, in Jenn’s special brown armchair? Her family has refused to comment, but police are examining CCTV footage carefully and are anxious to speak to anyone who may know of her whereabouts. Jenn will be remembered for her cactus collection, her love of cheap wine and her remarkable ability to roll a fag with one hand. Her debut novel, A Kind of Intimacy will be launched posthumously in March 2009 by Arcadia Books.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
Jen quickly grew tired of the book, and of Ed’s humming and sighing.
“Tell me again why we had to walk six miles to your creepy friends’ house today?” she said.
Ed was hunched over the desk, refilling his fountain pen and dropping ink on the carpet, rattling boxes of pins.
Lit Jam writer 10, Paul Ewen writes his own mock obituary:
When asked if he wanted to be buried or cremated, Paul Ewen responded by saying he hoped he would be blended into a delicious smoothie. When pressed for the flavour, he supposed it would most likely taste of ale and cheese. Ewen was born in Blenheim, the sunniest town in New Zealand, situated in the rich wine-growing region of Marlborough. Sadly, this sunshine would not find its way into his nature or disposition, each of which was gravely dark. The local wine would find its way into his bloodstream however, and his trademark pissy breath would be recognised by all who knew him. Born to a New Zealand mother, his father was an English Geordie who travelled to New Zealand by boat as a youth. When Paul moved to England, he travelled by aeroplane, and his hope was that his offspring would in turn travel to New Zealand wearing shoes with rockets. Messages of sympathy, or jeers, should be sent to: myspace.com/shoeswithrockets.
Submission Date:
03 Oct 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
What's So Special About Kansas? (continued...)
Excerpt:
“You should turn your phone off,” asserted Dorothy above the noise of the propellers. “It contravenes the aeronautical code.” Eddy listened a few moments longer before he hung up without leaving a message. “We’re in the middle of the Pacific Ocean,” he replied. “There aren’t any control towers out h...
Heidi James is interviewed by Adelle Stripe (continued)
AS: Do you still practice ballet, even in private? HJ: Not often enough. I'm horribly unsupple and lazy.... I do love it still….
AS: What is the greatest film ever made? HJ: Hmmmm difficult.... Herzog's ‘Stroszek’.... but I love ‘Sante Sangre’ by Jodorowsky.... I'm a sick catholic after all....
AS: What book do you wish you had written? HJ: ‘The Aenid’, ‘Ulysses’, ‘The Hour of The Star’.... more besides.... So many.
AS: Do you ever return to Chatham? HJ: Occasionally, to see family.... I hate it, yet it haunts me.... In running away so vehemently, of course, I run head long back to it.
AS: What book is on your bedside table? HJ: Stuff to review.... Research for PhD and for pleasure, ‘On Ugliness’ by Eco....
AS: Can we buy any of your B-movies on DVD or are they confined to the vaults of VHS? HJ: I don't know! I think one or two are on DVD.... I still get royalties (2 quid here and there) for TV stuff.... such a load of crap it makes me chuckle. I was such a plank!
Submission Date:
02 Sep 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the pool
Excerpt:
The children lay in front of the television. The breakfast things were washed up. The sun shone blue outside. Though cold, it was a pleasant day. The children were on the thuggish weave of the rug; the weave so thick it felt like lying on interlocking fist...
Craig: You look well. Been on holiday? God: Yeah, two weeks in Jerusalem. Craig: Why Jerusalem? God: I heard they produce a fine cheese. Craig: Do they even have cows in Jerusalem? God: They must because I brought you some cheeses back. Craig: You brought me back cheeses from Jerusalem? God: Well, I say Jerusalem, really it was Nazareth. Craig: You brought me back the cheeses of Nazareth?!
Submission Date:
02 Sep 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
a neck that’s not thick
Excerpt:
[Ed’s note: This story is written using the “burnt tongue” writing style, which basically involves playing with the phrasing to make the reader slow down and ponder the true meaning of the story. Think literary speed bump.]
LM: Yes or No? LM: No. LM: Oh. No? LM: Yes. LM: Oh! Yes? LM: NO! NO, NO, NO! LM: Oh. No. LM: Yes. LM: Oh.
Submission Date:
02 Sep 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
blood on the tracks
Excerpt:
The wind was hot, but it wasn’t the wind's fault. The boy coughed and this irritated me for a reason I couldn’t understand. Even still, I had to stop myself from clipping him one, blocking out the imagined satisfaction of the back of my hand connecting with his lip, with memories of his first birthd...
Do you like rats? And have you found them to be bigger down south than up north?
I hate rats. This stems from reading a book way advanced for my years, called Lair by James Herbert. It was about a plague of super rats that lived in Epping Forest. There was a giant worm that spawned them and they overran the whole of London. This started my obsession with rodents. Also, my Dad is a farmer and during the summer I would go ratting with him in the calf pens. I would stick a pitchfork into the straw and as the rats shot out my Dad would clatter them with a spade. It was like whack-a-croc.
A few years ago I got myself the ultimate ratting tool: a Patterdale Terrier. I used to live out near Hackney Wick, there are hundreds of rats everywhere out there – my dog is from serious ratting stock. In one summer he took out about a hundred rats. After they kill them you give them a drink of milk to wipe their palates. I used to train him by watching ratting films - my favourite is Ratting at the Chicken Farm with Albert Fox. It’s like rat snuff porn; apparently Night & Day with the Yorkshire Ratters is a classic. Albert Fox is my ratting hero. His dogs wiped out 369 rats in one session; Albert has an engine that smokes out the rats, they go flying out of the holes then he sets his terriers on them. It’s a sight to behold.
As far as the North vs South debate goes, I think they are pretty much equal, though London rats are very well fed – all those Fried Chicken boxes have a lot to answer for.
When I moved to Haberdasher Street, one night I found a rat in the toilet. It was hanging on the U-Bend with its tail swishing up and down. I couldn’t see the head, only the tail. I was considering sticking my hand in, pulling it out, and beating it over the head with a bottle of Domestos.
Apparently rats symbolise a fear of becoming a destitute scavenger, although personally I put it down to James Herbert…
Submission Date:
01 Aug 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
The Worst Days Of Your Life
Excerpt:
By the time I had hit my fifth year at school my hair had grown and was coloured purple.
The school decided to phase out black uniforms and everyone was instructed to wear navy blue. Of course, I had no intention of ever wearing navy but for some reason the head of year let it dr...
Heidi James, head of Social Disease and author of Carbon asks Adelle:
Patti Smith or Siouxsie Sioux?
Well, this is definitely a Siouxsie Sioux answer from me. I love Patti Smith but she is a moaner and does go on a bit. Every time I listen to Horses I get excited for about five minutes then have to turn her off as all that rock roll mythology/invoking the spirit of Jim Morrison bullshit really gets my goat. The thing is Piss Factory was one of the first pieces of music that made me want to write. The thing that puts me off her is that she really takes herself way too seriously. On the outside she’s a poetic goddess of cool, yet I reckon behind closed doors she puts on her tracksuit bottoms just like everyone else and watches Jeremy Kyle with her rollers in. Siouxsie Sioux also takes herself way too seriously but you have to admire a woman who dresses up in bondage gear and takes her boyfriend for a walk round Bromley shopping centre on a dog lead. Happy House is also one of my favourite ever songs. There’s something very creepy about her music but she rocks a great eye make up look, which scores points for Sioux. There are so many other female punks who I probably prefer to Patti and Sioux – Polystyrene, Patti & Judy Snatch, Linder Sterling, Viv Albertine, Gaye Advert, Jordan, Soo Catwoman, Jeanette Lee, Kleenex to name but a few!
Submission Date:
01 Aug 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
Feed Me With Your Kiss
Excerpt:
It was one of those clammy midsummer days. Damp. Stifling. The sweat ran off my forehead as I set off from the house towards the street where he lived. That afternoon he had emailed me four times:
Tony O’Neill, poet and author of Digging the Vein asks Adelle:
Should art and commerce ever mix?
I think the simple fact is – you need money to live and you might as well earn it from something you are interested in. To get paid for your art is the ultimate goal for most of my friends, who are penniless artists, musicians and writers. It’s no fun when you can’t even afford a loaf of bread, yet you still have to pay out Ł600 a month in rent for some fleapit room in a shared house in Dalston. If you can sell your art and get by then I think you’ve achieved the perfect balance. I’ve been a student for two years now; by the time I graduate in 2009 I will owe the government Ł22,000 for my BA. And that’s after bursaries for being a mature student. There’s no wonder people don’t want to go to university!
In an ideal world I would write books, sell enough copies to pay the rent and eat, whilst sticking to my guns in terms of style and content. The hard thing is finding a publisher who will facilitate that without interfering with your writing. One of things I’ve liked the most about working with Geraint at Blackheath Books (for Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid) is that he makes really beautiful books, yet has given me the freedom to choose my own poems and front cover. He has hand made every copy himself, in his own house and I think it really shows. There is so much love within his books, so much effort, that book buyers can smell the authenticity a mile off. If I could work with someone like Geraint for every book I put out then I’d happily set up my own cottage industry of publishing DIY poetry books. It would be great to think that you can sell enough chapbooks to live off but that’s not going to happen in my lifetime. I think you need to sell 300 copies to be the best selling poet in Britain. It sucks! So, my point is, I’m under no illusion that I’ll ever make a penny from my writing but if someone offered me half a million for my obscure collection of northern poems, or even to get my tits out for Playboy, I would, most definitely sell out.
Submission Date:
01 Aug 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
Champion Of Nothing
Excerpt:
When I was a little girl my Mum had lots of gay friends. Most of them were hairdressers and would come round the house every few months to talk about the National Hairdressers’ Federation, new tubes of peroxide and Lady Diana’s latest look. They sported brightly coloured hair, expensive smelling aft...
Method Man: “Wu-Tang Clan comin’ at ya.” Mark C: “Right you are then, chaps. Who wants to kick off with a question?” GZA: “First of all, who’s your A&R? A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?” Mark C: “No, it’s a lovely old fellow called Derek, and what he can’t do with a lamb chop isn’t, quite frankly, worth doing.” RZA: “Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?” Mark C: “Probably not, if I’m honest. I’m looking at it now and it’s withering a little beneath the lights.” Inspectah Deck: “But I’m still depressed and I ask what it’s worth?” Mark C: “Stumped if I know, old boy. Still – chin up. No point moping.” ODB: “Watch your step, Kid.” Mark C: “Will most certainly do, Mr Bastard. All the best!”
Submission Date:
01 Jul 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the art of donald mcgill
Excerpt:
My world is colour-washed and ink-outlined. Conversation blurts in snippets. A flash of brisk retort. The baker’s daughter offers me her hot cross buns. She claims they’re plump and warm. I run. I flee. Shouts from the outside appear in my dreams. They warn that I’m obscene. They campaign that I wit...
H: Why did you do it? D: I didn't. It wasn't me. Don't hurt me. H: Don't lie to me. I'm gonna give you one chance to tell me what's going on. D: Okay, I admit it. I wrote some stuff. Oww… please… that hurts. H: What kinda stuff? D: Stories mainly. And some poems. I didn't mean to hurt anybody. H: Didn't you? So what did you think you were trying to do, moron? Entertain? D: Owwwch! No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to… make a difference. H: C'mere. I'm gonna make a difference to you… D: No… no! Help…
Submission Date:
01 Jul 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
welcome to gehenna
Excerpt:
Eddie staggered down the alley, ignoring the rain. He navigated the upturned dustbins and piles of dog shit by instinct and didn’t flinch at all when a rat squirmed over his soaking wet foot. Eddie didn’t mind the wet too much, or the cold, or the taste in his mouth right n...
Alan K: How are you? Alan K: Reasonably ok, you? Alan K: I'm asking the questions. Alan K: Sorry, I forgot. Alan K: I must say you look nice, why don't you treat yourself to some ice-cream? Alan K: Perhaps I will. Alan K: Good. Alan K: Anymore questions? Alan K: You've aged quite badly, what skin products do you use? Alan K: Just a bar of mottled soap. Alan K: Ugh. Alan K: Yeah.
Submission Date:
01 Jul 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
one's elf
Excerpt:
I wonder if it’s just a mark of our youth that everything changes in the blink of an eye and then changes back again before you open them…
He could break his life up in small bits, without beginnings or ends. Men would arrive and leave; a constant string of unattachments. He would ...
You: I’m going to ask a series of questions. Me: OK. You: Toilet paper; folded or crumpled? Me: Folded. You: Happiness or euphoria? Me: Euphoria. You: Obsessive or compulsive? Me: Compulsive. You: Gin or vodka? Me: Gin. Vodka is good if you like to drink gasoline. You: Do you have a blog? Me: Yes, go here.
Submission Date:
01 Jul 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
aquarium
Excerpt:
I have always felt alien and outside from my fellow human beings. Like a guy watching a guy watching brightly colored fish swimming in a pet store aquarium on a grey winter day. Today is no different. I find myself standing in the doorway of a condemned house talking...
ZA: Your writing is both dark and provocatively sexual. What’s your take on love and relationships? SaFranko: Sexual attraction is a sort of madness that passes. The rest is very complicated. I don’t mean to be flippant here, but that about sums it up. Love and relationships are treacherous ground that any person of complexity never negotiates without extreme trepidation.
ZA: You said in an interview that you are interested in characters who are "in trouble," mostly with themselves. How does your fascination with obsession figure into this, particularly through your depiction of Max Zajack, the protagonist of Hating Olivia and Lounge Lizard? SaFranko: Obsession is a wonderful literary device. I think of a book like Of Human Bondage, probably the best novel of sexual obsession ever written, and how once it hooks you, you can’t put it down. If readability is a literary virtue, this is a good thing. Being an obsessive type myself, it’s natural territory for me.
Submission Date:
12 May 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
lost in the crowd
Excerpt:
Randall Hughes is absorbed in a Times feature on an upcoming retrospective of one of France’s most fabled auteurs when he happens to glance up for the first time. It’s half-past two in the afternoon. The crowd has grown more teeming since he arriv...
Jenni Fagan interviewed by a borrible from the dark metropolis
Q: Why did you want to write this piece? A: Real people and real situations sometimes grab my attention and don’t let go.
Q: Why are you drawn to dark material? A: It means something to me and writing is my reaction. I’ve always written more about things that bother me than things that don’t.
Q: Do you drink Red Death? A: No I drink Nog at the minute, or gin.
Q: Why is your cat so insane? A: It’s a long sad story, perhaps he’s been listening to my stories for too long.
Q: What do you think about in the queue for your groceries? A: The universe. I might ask each checkout operator that serves me over the next month how they feel about this tiny pinprick we call home, spinning in a great vast infinite unknown.
Submission Date:
05 Apr 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
water of leith
Excerpt:
It’s four am and the hostel is quiet, thirty-five homeless residents sleep or nod or lay unconscious in their rooms. The old Edinburgh building sits near the Water of Leith; it was once grand. ...
Crap Vampire: what is your favourite thing to eat? Pablo Vision: my favourite thing to eat is not food. Crap Vampire: what is your favourite number? Pablo Vision: I do not have a favourite number. I am, however, of the opinion that 239 is the most melancholy of the three digit numbers. Crap Vampire: what do you like best out of sultanas or Santana? Pablo Vision: Santana from 1969 is better than sultanas from 1969. Sultanas from the present are better than Santana from recent times.
Submission Date:
01 Mar 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
a day in the life
Excerpt:
Her hand moves slowly, from my breasts, and over my stomach, with exquisite touch, and tantalising purpose. There is an agonizing moment where she stops. I thrust my sex towards that hand and those fingers. She slowly moves back up. My desire is overwhelming, but she is in control; her mouth busy su...
Q: Who are your friends and enemies in the poetry world? A: I don't think I have either. The only two people I interact with on a regular basis are Matt DiGangi, editor of Thieves Jargon (where I am a poetry editor) and a poet from New York named Aleathia Drehmer.
Q: So, what, are you stuck up or something? A: I don't think so, I just like to write. It sounds corny, but honestly, I've always been a loner.
Q: Do you see yourself as a small press poet? A: I see myself as a writer, or, more accurately, some sort of writer in progress (I started writing three years ago at the age of twenty-seven). I submit everywhere, but most of my stuff seems to find a home in the small press.
Q: Is it true that one of your poems is going to be in The Iowa Review? A: Yes.
Q: How do you feel about that? A: Like a bank robber who got away clean.
Submission Date:
19 Feb 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the first ballerina on the moon
Excerpt:
would lay out on her stomach next to the trailer park swimming pool with her bra unstrapped as I anchored my forearm on the cement lip of the deep end, other hand in my shorts.
That was fifteen years ago.
Right now I'm sitting two over from her at Thumbs on a Tuesday night in Decembe...
Q: What’s with the “J”? A: The “J” is a divider. Without it I’m convinced my name sounds like a weird, elongated version of “Melanie”, which is not good. Q: What inspired this story? A: Looking up the wrong thing on Wikipedia. Q: What helps you write? A: Bourbon Creams. Q: What hinders you? A: Online Scrabble. Q: What’s your favourite quote? A: “Words not as precious things, but as necessary things.” Bukowski Q: Anything else? A: A bit – here.
Submission Date:
03 Feb 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
in my mouth
Excerpt:
I have it in my mouth. I don’t think I am supposed to. It tastes salty and other things too. I don’t know why I do it. It’s not that I am hungry. I eat all my food. But every day I come out here to the garages and I put it in my mouth.
Sometimes I think that it will dissolve on my tongue. It ...
'Do you think writing about me is clever Mr Bigshot internet writer Google freak Ridgwell?'
I rubbed my eyes and squinted. 'Who the fuck are you?'
'Elizabeth Short you prick-fuck.'
'Really?'
'Yeah really, now answer the question or be damned.'
'Ok, take it easy. No, it's not clever but you have to remember I'm stupid.'
‘But I passed away over fifty years ago, don't you have any respect for the dead.'
'I have no respect for the dead or the living.'
'You're crazy.'
'You look like shit.'
'That's it, I'm outta here.'
A puff of smoke and then Elizabeth Short, or whoever the fuck it was, disappeared. I lay back in bed and made a mental note to switch from whiskey to wine and ease up on the pure MDMA.
Submission Date:
03 Feb 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the black dahlia
Excerpt:
I was living in downtown L.A and every Friday night I held an all-night card game in my roach-infested apartment just south of Leimert Park. There were four regulars at these gambling soirees: me, Fante, Bukowski and Papa Hemingway, but it wasn’t unusual for one or two others to drop by, sometimes w...
Q: What have you forgotten? A: The name of the woman who wrote whatsitcalled.
Q: What was the date of your last act of violence? A: January 7th 2008.
Q: Where is home? A: Where the art is.
Q: Name a part of the body where you have a physical scar from childhood. A: The right side of my skull.
Q: Name a part of your body that you rarely touch. A: My pancreatic notch
Submission Date:
19 Jan 2008
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
the yellow springs of north london
Excerpt:
Most mornings, Billy makes it home. Dragging himself onto the Tube, if the Tube is running. Or slumping disheveled on the back seat of a bus, a bendy bus smelling of burned rubber, greasy kebabs, overripe humans. Sometimes Billy walks – along King’s Cross Road, up Penton Rise, on towards the Angel. ...
Q: So Adelle, tell us about your living room A: Well, there’s a big Mexican wrestling poster on the wall of Santo. A fibre glass floor lamp. A fire. A bookshelf crammed with beat literature, thousands of LPs, and boxes of reggae and punk 7inches from my DJ days. Ben is watching The Mighty Boosh with his snakeskin slippers on. Kilimanjaro by The Teardrop Explodes is sat on the record deck. Q: What book is by your bedside? A: About 15. There’s a biography of Caravaggio, The History of God, Borstal Boy, Wait Until Spring Bandini, You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me, V for Vendetta, and The Norton Anthology of Poetry to name but a few. Depending on what kind of dream I want to have I choose a book according to the bedtime remit. Q: If you were to recommend a day in Peckham to a tourist, where would you send them? A: Firstly, Khan’s superstore. The shop that has everything. Then onto Gaby’s for a saltfish pattie. Buy a book from Roz at Review. Walk across the Rye and try and find William Blake’s tree where he had his visions. Then onto Nunhead Cemetery, sit in the bench at the top of Dissenter’s Row and watch the sun go down across London. If you’re still on the go, walk back down Forest Hill and stop off to see the house where they filmed Entertaining Mr Sloane… Other local attractions include Boris Karloff’s house, The Hornimann Museum, Chener Books on Lordship Lane, and St.Christopher’s charity shop for good second hand clothes. Q: Anything else you would like to plug? A: Oh yeah. Brutalism One: Nowhere Fast is out in January. We’ve got a big box about to go on sale via here.
Submission Date:
16 Dec 2007
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
hinterland
Excerpt:
He made her feel uncomfortable, and she didn’t like that. It was the look on his face, the way that sweat boiled up in the acne scarred crater pits that littered his jowls, the stench of old tarter from his nicotine stained teeth, even the way that he jutted out his hips when he walked – in fact eve...
Q: How many rejections does your first novel have now? A: I stopped counting at twenty. Q: What is the main reason given by editors for the rejections? A: They find the hero unsympathetic. Q: Is the hero unsympathetic? A: He’s a sociopath, you tell me. Q: Why are you so angry at capitalism? A: It looked at me funny. Q: If you could be buried alive with a famous person, who would it be? A: You my sweet!
Submission Date:
16 Dec 2007
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
good deeds
Excerpt:
I had just completed a run and was walking the rest of the way home. It was a cool, showery morning, and even though I had worn a cap with a visor, the lenses of my glasses were misted over with fine droplets of rainwater and fogged from the heat of my face. My sweatshirt was d...
Me: Feeling chatty today? Me: Nah, not really. Me: Sulking, are we? Me: Suppose. Me: Tell us about what made you want to write this story. Me: An argument I eavesdropped on in a cafe. Me: That really true? Me: Could be. Me: Anything else? Me: Go here - if you must.
Submission Date:
26 Nov 2007
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
thumb
Excerpt:
I know she wants a camera. I’m supposed to get one for her. She doesn’t talk though, doesn’t come out and ask. Chloe has better ways of getting what she wants than that. Catalogues have started appearing on the kitchen table, biro-marked flyers from Jessops in the bathroom. I know how much it is goi...
Q: How do you pronounce your name? A: It's the same as Jeremy. My mother used the French spelling by sheer luck. She was a stoned 17 year old who thought it'd be fun to spell it differently. My middle name is completely made up. Q: Is your writing autobiographical? A: Yes, for the most part; all writers embellish. I am not clever enough to write about what I have not personally experienced. I have battled with drug addiction for about 4 years now. Q: What new writers do you read? A: I am not a fan of new writers. I am also not a fan of most old writers. I did not like anyone new until I found Tao Lin's poetry and short stories. He writes of loneliness in a way that most others have not touched upon. I also enjoy Tony O’Neill. The reasons should be patent if you've read him before. I am also a fan of Buddy Wakefield (although I do not care for Slam Poetry much). Q: Do you have a blog? A: Yes, I recently started one. It is more of a diary though. I know people are going through their own struggles and do not want to hear me complain about mine. The blog is weak-signal.blogspot.com.
Submission Date:
10 Oct 2007
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
little saigon
Excerpt:
“I’ll have a ca fe.”
“Ca fe su da?”
“No, no just a ca fe.”
“Oh, that’s very strong.”
“I know darling.” I smile at her. She acquiesces and walks behind the counter to get my order. I go through this exercise at every Vietnamese coffee shop....
Q: Who are you? A: Emily Louise McPhillips. Q: Nicknames? A: Emmy Squirrel, Electro Magnetic Pulse, Emails. Many words beginning with E. Q: Your favourite books? A: Far From the Madding Crowd. I love Thomas Hardy. Bathsheba Everdene is a favourite heroine of mine, her faults make her very likeable, so much so that I want to open up my own cafe eventually and call it Bathsheba's; you must come! And books by Tove Jansson too - they're so wonderfully lovely. Q: Your most embarrassing celebrity crush? A: I'm not too embarrassed about it, but I did used to have a major thing for Angus Deayton, a little bit odd for a 13 year old girl though. Q: Plans for the rest of 2007? A: I desperately want to learn Ballroom Dancing, oh and take some Spanish lessons too, oh and writing, more writing.
Submission Date:
10 Oct 2007
Category:
Short story
In Podcast and Chap-book
Title:
freddie and anika
Excerpt:
You don’t want to go to the ice rink, Anika had her fingers sliced off and they stuck to the ice and then Freddie came over and licked the blood up like jam from a doughnut. The medics had to cut his tongue out with a surgical knife. He signs fuck you to the kids that push him ...
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