dear sarah manguso
in case you google yourself often, and this shows up, lemme take that workshop with you. you are my number one choice. and josh bell said it'd be a good idea too. so there's that. ac/dc is telling me that it ain't easy. i feel they are not entirely wrong.
ugh
wrote a novella.
halfway through scorch atlas. stand by every word i said about it. stand by those words in a way that is slightly taller and sturdier than they way i stood by them before. no more locking my knees. that sort of thing.
scouring cragslist for places to live. hoping people email me back. possibly with subject lines like hell yes. fuck yes. shit yeah. some sort of variant of that would be slammin.
fell behind on my pages for the battlefield where the moon says i love you. going to make those up today.
owe someone a story about playing tennis with an old man and eating breakfast with him later. a gigantic breakfast sandwich of a breakfast.
lordy. who knows. we'll see. i certainly don't.
halfway through scorch atlas. stand by every word i said about it. stand by those words in a way that is slightly taller and sturdier than they way i stood by them before. no more locking my knees. that sort of thing.
scouring cragslist for places to live. hoping people email me back. possibly with subject lines like hell yes. fuck yes. shit yeah. some sort of variant of that would be slammin.
fell behind on my pages for the battlefield where the moon says i love you. going to make those up today.
owe someone a story about playing tennis with an old man and eating breakfast with him later. a gigantic breakfast sandwich of a breakfast.
lordy. who knows. we'll see. i certainly don't.
from 'vacation' by deb olin unferth
You know how it is to want something. Desire builds like a little house in your head and it sits there, half-constructed in your mind. Women who want children are this way. Artists are this way about pictures. It doesn't go away. You may forget for a few months but then it's back, the unfinished pieces of what you want.
holler.
holler.
packing for vermont. a note about blake butler.
so i'm going to vermont for a few days to visit family. will be back around tuesday. will at some point post about the dollar store tour in philly.
so i've been reading vacation by deb olin unferth and it's been blowing my mind. really. this and don b's paradise are the two novels that i look at for. for how i would write a novel. paradise for the way it manages to use very small pieces to tell a much larger story and move you along without a sense of being moved along at all. but vacation. the word tight doesn't describe it. tight is like. tight is how a fucking shirt fits yknow? it describes a fit. this fucking prose it just perfect. everything about really short fiction that anyone in the world would ever love, really just sentences that are like a trampoline in their construction, that propel you upwards and onwards, and after each one you think where could this go that could make it more perfect and then fuck me there 200 pages left, because that was after like the second chapter or something, and fuck, it's like miles and miles of trampolines, tightly constructed, heartbreakingly fucking gorgeous, moving you upwards and onwards, forever and ever, holy fuck. it was 5 bucks from mcsweeneys. get it now. fucking buy it.
also at the dollar store i picked up an early copy of scorch atlas.
first off it's incredible. the design of this book. as an object, it's goddam magnificent.
and second. i've been sort of reading scorch atlas. the other night i couldn't sleep and picked it up instead of going on with vacation. and listen. blake butler i need to say something to you. in public. for everyone to see.
generally it is safe to say i stay away from the grotesque. from the things that seem to consume you and gary lutz. they tell me "In modern English, grotesque has come to be used as a general adjective for the strange, fantastic, ugly, incongruous, unpleasant, or bizarre." blake i don't feel safe when i read your writing all of the time. but like with lutz, and sometimes more so because of how tightly wound lutz's words are, but what it is is that i am dragged, sentence by sentence, inch by inch, into your words and every moment inside of them bristles with this strange magic i don't feel in any way comfortable around, and because of these words, the ones you picked from your head and put on the page, all i can do is awe at it. at this strange and bristling and wonderful terror.
so i've been reading vacation by deb olin unferth and it's been blowing my mind. really. this and don b's paradise are the two novels that i look at for. for how i would write a novel. paradise for the way it manages to use very small pieces to tell a much larger story and move you along without a sense of being moved along at all. but vacation. the word tight doesn't describe it. tight is like. tight is how a fucking shirt fits yknow? it describes a fit. this fucking prose it just perfect. everything about really short fiction that anyone in the world would ever love, really just sentences that are like a trampoline in their construction, that propel you upwards and onwards, and after each one you think where could this go that could make it more perfect and then fuck me there 200 pages left, because that was after like the second chapter or something, and fuck, it's like miles and miles of trampolines, tightly constructed, heartbreakingly fucking gorgeous, moving you upwards and onwards, forever and ever, holy fuck. it was 5 bucks from mcsweeneys. get it now. fucking buy it.
also at the dollar store i picked up an early copy of scorch atlas.
first off it's incredible. the design of this book. as an object, it's goddam magnificent.
and second. i've been sort of reading scorch atlas. the other night i couldn't sleep and picked it up instead of going on with vacation. and listen. blake butler i need to say something to you. in public. for everyone to see.
generally it is safe to say i stay away from the grotesque. from the things that seem to consume you and gary lutz. they tell me "In modern English, grotesque has come to be used as a general adjective for the strange, fantastic, ugly, incongruous, unpleasant, or bizarre." blake i don't feel safe when i read your writing all of the time. but like with lutz, and sometimes more so because of how tightly wound lutz's words are, but what it is is that i am dragged, sentence by sentence, inch by inch, into your words and every moment inside of them bristles with this strange magic i don't feel in any way comfortable around, and because of these words, the ones you picked from your head and put on the page, all i can do is awe at it. at this strange and bristling and wonderful terror.
i got a real man crush on james tate
Goodtime Jesus
Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dream-
ing so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it?
A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled
back, skin falling off. But he wasn't afraid of that. It was a beau-
tiful day. How 'bout some coffee? Don't mind if I do. Take a little
ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.
Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dream-
ing so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it?
A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled
back, skin falling off. But he wasn't afraid of that. It was a beau-
tiful day. How 'bout some coffee? Don't mind if I do. Take a little
ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.
THE BATTLEFIELD WHERE THE SUMMER SAYS I LOVE YOU
have you read this?
The Battlefield Where The Moon Says I Love You is a 15,283-line epic poem by the poet Frank Stanford. First published in 1977 as a 542-page book,[1] the poem is visually characterized by its absence of stanzas (or any skipped horizontal spaces) and punctuation and is recognized as a complex, unusual work — at once both highly humorous and tragically beautiful.
Stanford worked on the manuscript for many years (beginning as a teenager in the 1960s[2] [or possibly even before his teenage years])[3] prior to its publication — a joint-publication by Mill Mountain Press (Stanford's publisher throughout the early and mid-1970s) and Lost Roads (Stanford's own press) — in 1977.[1] After being out of print for several years,[4] the book was republished by Lost Roads (under succeeding editorship of C.D. Wright and Forrest Gander) in 2000; this second, corrected edition — 383 pages, equipped with line numbers — is in print, having been reprinted by the press in 2008. A common misconception is that the 15,283-line poem (as evident in the 2000 edition) was actually over 21,000 lines in the first edition (which suggests that the two texts are actually different), but the seemingly longer line count in the 1977 edition is merely resultant of the paper's octavo size, effecting many lengthy lines to be necessarily broken with indents employed.
from wikipedia.
so. j.a. tyler and i were talking about how neither of us has ever finished this book.
why would anyone want to finish it?
here are lines 3001-3199
I am afraid after reading all these so-called initiation books that some
cortege of boot lickers will enter my room while I am sleeping and suck
my eyes out with soda straws they will be older men and women much like
the amanuenses with bad breath in the principal’s office who call
up and tell on you the Unferths of the world better beware
I know Jesus would have kicked your teeth in you couldn’t pull that shit on him
he was telling his buddies one night boys I’m glad y’all decided to come on up
and eat supper with me I hadn’t got much there’s a few things I’d like to say
at this time Matthew says to Simon I sure as hell don’t know what he’s got us
here this time for I’m beginning to wonder you talked to him lately
yea I was shooting the shit with him on the mountain but I want to tell you
this Matthew don’t never come up on him when he’s alone he jumped on me
I thought he was going to kill me he was just walking around just talking
to himself waving his arms like he does he’s worse than John
Jude put his hand up to his mouth and said down the table I think Jesus is going
off his rocker get Simon to tell you what he asked me
Simon says he didn’t want to talk about politics or dreams or nothing he just said
Jude next time y’all are over in Mesopotamia why don’t you pick me up a few
bottles of that wine they make over there
sure thing Jesus I says
well now the boss is talking he is saying I asked y’all up here because frankly
I’ve been feeling a little sick lately and I want to make sure y’all know what
to do in case anything happens I know one of you is going to do me in I know
that but goddamnit y’all know those people in town are after my ass
the other night I walked down the streets in a disguise and I seen a couple
of you messing around and drinking with the soldiers what’s going to happen
if one of you gets drunk and lets it slip where I’m hiding out then I’ll
be in a fix you know if they was to find me they going to cut me y’all ever
think about that and Peter ain’t you ever going to get it straight what you’re
supposed to do give me one of those biscuits Judas and go outside and take a
look-see I got you Jesus Judas says
John leans over he says been catching any fish Peter
oh well I been getting a few of a morning they ain’t biting too good now you know
on account of this blamed weather nobody is even listening to Jesus he’s just
talking to himself like he was crazy Matthew says I believe he’s been hitting
that wine a little too hard don’t you reckon
Jesus says another thing I told all of you it’d be better if you didn’t get
involved with women
now just listen to that little two-faced bastard James the Lesser says
we all know what he’s up to shacking up with all those town girls
the other night he was dressed fit to kill and drunk as six hundred dollars
a rolling around in the mud like a hog kissing that whore’s foot why shit
I wish he’d let us in on what he really does
Thomas spoke up for once he says I know what you mean the other day Andrew
and I asked him about some scripture he said leave me alone I don’t know
nothing about that shit and then we seen him cussing out a priest over at the
temple he knew more about it than the elder did
another thing Matthew says I wish he’d start writing what he wants done down
and do it so I can read it you know as well as I do that damned Peter can’t
keep it straight he won’t get anything right
Bartholomew says don’t make no difference atoll cause Paul is going to tell
it like he wants to that’s for damned sure
all the time Jesus just mumbling to himself wine spilt all over his robe
the rest of them chattering and cussing trying to figure him out
John the Baptist about the only one Jesus can count on except for crazy John
is banging his goblet on the table he is saying now ain’t this a sight
spitting in the lord’s face at his own birthday party I’ll swan
Brother John why don’t you tell Jesus what the real problem is
the crazy one says everyone of y’all is chickenshits you are afraid to look
those elders in the eye and tell them what you think ya’ll get up on a rock
to talk and you see a soldier coming and you say anybody seen a stray mule
Jesus is saying to himself I’m going to pull those temples down if I have to
get me a rope and tie it to a pillar and a jackass and do it myself
wake up Jesus Philip says
Paul who hadn’t touched a drop gets up and gets his paper out and says
the nature of the problem Jesus is this the people don’t believe you
those fellows in the temples have got it all organized all they have to do
is send out stooges and hire a couple of rednecks who make out like they’re
crippled they have a big gathering they say the same things you say they
pull off a fake healing the redneck’s wife stands up she says LIE he ain’t lame
he’s just drunk and so all the people go home saying those christians what a
bunch of wind see Jesus they are using your material but they ain’t coming
through so that is making you an enemy of the people we just got to get
organized as is proved here today by your followers carrying on as they did
so I’m getting sold down the river by the elders and their hirelings uh
that’s right Jesus ask anybody here why I didn’t think they’d do that he says
I told you a long time ago not to keep talking with them temple people John says
you should a know’d what they was up to ain’t nobody going to understand you
why you ought to know that when we first run on to you we had second thoughts
we thought you was crazy there’s probably still some sitting down here right
this second that still thinks you are a crazy one but Jesus you should a known
we been through a lot together we go a long way back you should a listened
all they wanted was you they liable to get you yet then they won’t have no
competition they want to keep feeding the hogs the same slop
they the ones that want to get fat man you listening to me Jesus
he says ok if that’s the way they want to do things at the temple
I’m going to change my tactics I going out after these chillun more than I have
been they’ll know I’m telling the truth I still got a few things up my sleeve
left what’s that Paul says
I’m going to do a few things can’t nobody follow
we could always go back to biting the heads off fish and chickens Peter says
why don’t you let us in on it for a change Paul says we follow you around
like we were a bunch of sheep picking up your tab bailing you out of jail
coming up here all the time for supper and what do we get to eat nothing
why can’t you have a little faith in us Jesus
ok this is what we going to do he says hold on who is that walking up the steps
it’s just Judas
how does it go boy Jesus says and the other one answers just fine Jesus just fine
and John the Baptist turns around he says to the one who has just slipped in boy
didn’t I see you talking to some white folks the other day
here endeth with a chord on the guitar that’s how the men did Jesus like he was
old like he was young just like Elvis did to Big Dad Arthur I know
just like another blind singer the men come down to see with their equipment
they get his song they pay him twenty dollars and he don’t hear from them ever
again except sometimes in the mail on Christmas when one of them might send a
five dollar check there won’t nobody cash oh tell me brother how do the old men
feel who were young as purple flowers from Hawaii once when they listen to their
songs coming in over a borrowed radio tell me don’t they take up a notch in they belt
don't they tie another knot in they headband don't they wring that sweat out
have mercy Jesus deliver me from the lawyers and the teachers and the preachers
and the politicking flies can’t you hear them buzz can’t you hear them bite another
chunk out of me oh brother I am death and you are sleep I am white and you are
black brother tell me I am that which I am I am sleep and you are death we are
one person getting up and going outside naked as a blue jay rolling our bellies
at the moon oh brother tell me you love me and I’ll tell you too I want to know
how do they like it when the ones who sung shake they leg on the Television
I want to know Jesus don’t a blind man count no more some by signs others by
whispers some with a kiss and some with a gun and some with a six bit fountain
pen whoa lord help me and my brother help us get through this tookover land
so. in the tradition of infinite summer, starting monday july 13, we will be reading 40-50 pages a week. and emailing. if anyone wants to get in on this, maybe we'll start a blog and everyone can have a discussion. if you come late, that's fine! check goodreads for our current page count, or email one of us.
everyone should fucking read this.
it's fucking epic.
it's going to be awesome.
The Battlefield Where The Moon Says I Love You is a 15,283-line epic poem by the poet Frank Stanford. First published in 1977 as a 542-page book,[1] the poem is visually characterized by its absence of stanzas (or any skipped horizontal spaces) and punctuation and is recognized as a complex, unusual work — at once both highly humorous and tragically beautiful.
Stanford worked on the manuscript for many years (beginning as a teenager in the 1960s[2] [or possibly even before his teenage years])[3] prior to its publication — a joint-publication by Mill Mountain Press (Stanford's publisher throughout the early and mid-1970s) and Lost Roads (Stanford's own press) — in 1977.[1] After being out of print for several years,[4] the book was republished by Lost Roads (under succeeding editorship of C.D. Wright and Forrest Gander) in 2000; this second, corrected edition — 383 pages, equipped with line numbers — is in print, having been reprinted by the press in 2008. A common misconception is that the 15,283-line poem (as evident in the 2000 edition) was actually over 21,000 lines in the first edition (which suggests that the two texts are actually different), but the seemingly longer line count in the 1977 edition is merely resultant of the paper's octavo size, effecting many lengthy lines to be necessarily broken with indents employed.
from wikipedia.
so. j.a. tyler and i were talking about how neither of us has ever finished this book.
why would anyone want to finish it?
here are lines 3001-3199
I am afraid after reading all these so-called initiation books that some
cortege of boot lickers will enter my room while I am sleeping and suck
my eyes out with soda straws they will be older men and women much like
the amanuenses with bad breath in the principal’s office who call
up and tell on you the Unferths of the world better beware
I know Jesus would have kicked your teeth in you couldn’t pull that shit on him
he was telling his buddies one night boys I’m glad y’all decided to come on up
and eat supper with me I hadn’t got much there’s a few things I’d like to say
at this time Matthew says to Simon I sure as hell don’t know what he’s got us
here this time for I’m beginning to wonder you talked to him lately
yea I was shooting the shit with him on the mountain but I want to tell you
this Matthew don’t never come up on him when he’s alone he jumped on me
I thought he was going to kill me he was just walking around just talking
to himself waving his arms like he does he’s worse than John
Jude put his hand up to his mouth and said down the table I think Jesus is going
off his rocker get Simon to tell you what he asked me
Simon says he didn’t want to talk about politics or dreams or nothing he just said
Jude next time y’all are over in Mesopotamia why don’t you pick me up a few
bottles of that wine they make over there
sure thing Jesus I says
well now the boss is talking he is saying I asked y’all up here because frankly
I’ve been feeling a little sick lately and I want to make sure y’all know what
to do in case anything happens I know one of you is going to do me in I know
that but goddamnit y’all know those people in town are after my ass
the other night I walked down the streets in a disguise and I seen a couple
of you messing around and drinking with the soldiers what’s going to happen
if one of you gets drunk and lets it slip where I’m hiding out then I’ll
be in a fix you know if they was to find me they going to cut me y’all ever
think about that and Peter ain’t you ever going to get it straight what you’re
supposed to do give me one of those biscuits Judas and go outside and take a
look-see I got you Jesus Judas says
John leans over he says been catching any fish Peter
oh well I been getting a few of a morning they ain’t biting too good now you know
on account of this blamed weather nobody is even listening to Jesus he’s just
talking to himself like he was crazy Matthew says I believe he’s been hitting
that wine a little too hard don’t you reckon
Jesus says another thing I told all of you it’d be better if you didn’t get
involved with women
now just listen to that little two-faced bastard James the Lesser says
we all know what he’s up to shacking up with all those town girls
the other night he was dressed fit to kill and drunk as six hundred dollars
a rolling around in the mud like a hog kissing that whore’s foot why shit
I wish he’d let us in on what he really does
Thomas spoke up for once he says I know what you mean the other day Andrew
and I asked him about some scripture he said leave me alone I don’t know
nothing about that shit and then we seen him cussing out a priest over at the
temple he knew more about it than the elder did
another thing Matthew says I wish he’d start writing what he wants done down
and do it so I can read it you know as well as I do that damned Peter can’t
keep it straight he won’t get anything right
Bartholomew says don’t make no difference atoll cause Paul is going to tell
it like he wants to that’s for damned sure
all the time Jesus just mumbling to himself wine spilt all over his robe
the rest of them chattering and cussing trying to figure him out
John the Baptist about the only one Jesus can count on except for crazy John
is banging his goblet on the table he is saying now ain’t this a sight
spitting in the lord’s face at his own birthday party I’ll swan
Brother John why don’t you tell Jesus what the real problem is
the crazy one says everyone of y’all is chickenshits you are afraid to look
those elders in the eye and tell them what you think ya’ll get up on a rock
to talk and you see a soldier coming and you say anybody seen a stray mule
Jesus is saying to himself I’m going to pull those temples down if I have to
get me a rope and tie it to a pillar and a jackass and do it myself
wake up Jesus Philip says
Paul who hadn’t touched a drop gets up and gets his paper out and says
the nature of the problem Jesus is this the people don’t believe you
those fellows in the temples have got it all organized all they have to do
is send out stooges and hire a couple of rednecks who make out like they’re
crippled they have a big gathering they say the same things you say they
pull off a fake healing the redneck’s wife stands up she says LIE he ain’t lame
he’s just drunk and so all the people go home saying those christians what a
bunch of wind see Jesus they are using your material but they ain’t coming
through so that is making you an enemy of the people we just got to get
organized as is proved here today by your followers carrying on as they did
so I’m getting sold down the river by the elders and their hirelings uh
that’s right Jesus ask anybody here why I didn’t think they’d do that he says
I told you a long time ago not to keep talking with them temple people John says
you should a know’d what they was up to ain’t nobody going to understand you
why you ought to know that when we first run on to you we had second thoughts
we thought you was crazy there’s probably still some sitting down here right
this second that still thinks you are a crazy one but Jesus you should a known
we been through a lot together we go a long way back you should a listened
all they wanted was you they liable to get you yet then they won’t have no
competition they want to keep feeding the hogs the same slop
they the ones that want to get fat man you listening to me Jesus
he says ok if that’s the way they want to do things at the temple
I’m going to change my tactics I going out after these chillun more than I have
been they’ll know I’m telling the truth I still got a few things up my sleeve
left what’s that Paul says
I’m going to do a few things can’t nobody follow
we could always go back to biting the heads off fish and chickens Peter says
why don’t you let us in on it for a change Paul says we follow you around
like we were a bunch of sheep picking up your tab bailing you out of jail
coming up here all the time for supper and what do we get to eat nothing
why can’t you have a little faith in us Jesus
ok this is what we going to do he says hold on who is that walking up the steps
it’s just Judas
how does it go boy Jesus says and the other one answers just fine Jesus just fine
and John the Baptist turns around he says to the one who has just slipped in boy
didn’t I see you talking to some white folks the other day
here endeth with a chord on the guitar that’s how the men did Jesus like he was
old like he was young just like Elvis did to Big Dad Arthur I know
just like another blind singer the men come down to see with their equipment
they get his song they pay him twenty dollars and he don’t hear from them ever
again except sometimes in the mail on Christmas when one of them might send a
five dollar check there won’t nobody cash oh tell me brother how do the old men
feel who were young as purple flowers from Hawaii once when they listen to their
songs coming in over a borrowed radio tell me don’t they take up a notch in they belt
don't they tie another knot in they headband don't they wring that sweat out
have mercy Jesus deliver me from the lawyers and the teachers and the preachers
and the politicking flies can’t you hear them buzz can’t you hear them bite another
chunk out of me oh brother I am death and you are sleep I am white and you are
black brother tell me I am that which I am I am sleep and you are death we are
one person getting up and going outside naked as a blue jay rolling our bellies
at the moon oh brother tell me you love me and I’ll tell you too I want to know
how do they like it when the ones who sung shake they leg on the Television
I want to know Jesus don’t a blind man count no more some by signs others by
whispers some with a kiss and some with a gun and some with a six bit fountain
pen whoa lord help me and my brother help us get through this tookover land
so. in the tradition of infinite summer, starting monday july 13, we will be reading 40-50 pages a week. and emailing. if anyone wants to get in on this, maybe we'll start a blog and everyone can have a discussion. if you come late, that's fine! check goodreads for our current page count, or email one of us.
everyone should fucking read this.
it's fucking epic.
it's going to be awesome.
(570): [I just called a phone sex line and you know what I did?] I sat there and cried
Prathna Lor
to me
12:58 PM (11 minutes ago)
how long, do you think, will you be able to continue writing about birds and water and fire and trees and the sky
to me
12:58 PM (11 minutes ago)
how long, do you think, will you be able to continue writing about birds and water and fire and trees and the sky
(503): I didnt attack him, I heard I threw a chair at him- big difference. And you know Im not a creep so whatever
(the sequel)
Shane: gchat is for interns only
12:33 PM me: i hope a fire breaks out and you have to carry every one of those fatties on your back down the stairs
one at a time
12:35 PM go write a novel. and see if you can make it, yknow, past 200 pages or something.
i hope you eat so much folded up pizza that you explode. literally explode
12:36 PM i hope the state of new york fines you for every time you feel sad
i hope you fucking miss me one day
i'm gonna go cry more
Shane: sorry, talking to new intern
Shane: gchat is for interns only
12:33 PM me: i hope a fire breaks out and you have to carry every one of those fatties on your back down the stairs
one at a time
12:35 PM go write a novel. and see if you can make it, yknow, past 200 pages or something.
i hope you eat so much folded up pizza that you explode. literally explode
12:36 PM i hope the state of new york fines you for every time you feel sad
i hope you fucking miss me one day
i'm gonna go cry more
Shane: sorry, talking to new intern
(832): 'Watching yourself cry on Photobooth' is the new 'watching yourself cry in the mirror.'
3:58 PM me: right now i am trying to figure out if mariah carey is black
3:59 PM "of afro-venezuelan descent"
4:02 PM also, irish
4:18 PM me: now you don't need to look it up
what are the worlds best part time interns for if not this
4:45 PM Shane: i have some terrible news
i hit the wall with the # stories
me: OH NO
what happened
Shane: keep thinking about a novel
4:46 PM me: shit work on that and go back to them
problem solved
Shane: something bigger
me: how does my solution not solve this problem
and turn the terrible news into simply really good news that i'll have to wait a little longer for
i don't understand
Shane: hahaha
i felt bad
4:47 PM i just thought "fuck these stories, i hate them"
me: fuck you i hate you
no, don't worry put it down work on the novel you'll go back to them because fuck you they're good
ryan call and i both think so
4:48 PM Shane: hahaha
me: and i mean, we
are fucking awesome
at writing and at being people
Shane: very true
4:50 PM me: so there
once again
i am the best part time half assed intern you could ever ask for
4:51 PM also, really, just about the third or fourth best thing ever you could ask for. top ten maybe. i'll places cede to all sorts of blowjobs.
Shane: you're fired
that's right, i'm firing you
me: WHAT
you can't fire me
Shane: you haven't done anything
the worst
4:52 PM the absolute worst
me: who will get you your fire marshall hat
Shane: ryan manning
or ben brooks
that's right, ben brooks is the new intern
he'll probably do something
and not just sit on the porch reading
me: FINE
Shane: where there is no internet
me: SEE HOW YOU LIKE ME NOT BEING YR INTERN
4:53 PM Shane: should be okay
nothing will change
4:54 PM me: when you wake up to an email from ben brooks but when you open it you think it's from me because you're still sleepy and have been dreaming about me and my emails, and then you read it and realize, unmistakeably, that sasha fletcher did not write this email, as it is capitalized when appropriate, and when this happens you will get a little sadder, but not in a way that will help yr writing, but in a way that will make it just a little bit harder to make it through each day, and also it will make yr erections last for shorter periods of time
incrementally.
but, i accept being fired, as i have done nothing.
4:55 PM you can however not fire me from being your internet friend, as google looks down on that sort of thing
Shane: well, of course
me: alright
if we are settled in all of this, then i accept
4:56 PM Shane: don't let the door hit you on the way out
me: I FUCKING WON'T
Shane is offline. Messages you send will be delivered when Shane comes online
DON'T LET THE SADNESS CHOKE YOU TO DEATH
and i'm not bitter about it one bit.
3:59 PM "of afro-venezuelan descent"
4:02 PM also, irish
4:18 PM me: now you don't need to look it up
what are the worlds best part time interns for if not this
4:45 PM Shane: i have some terrible news
i hit the wall with the # stories
me: OH NO
what happened
Shane: keep thinking about a novel
4:46 PM me: shit work on that and go back to them
problem solved
Shane: something bigger
me: how does my solution not solve this problem
and turn the terrible news into simply really good news that i'll have to wait a little longer for
i don't understand
Shane: hahaha
i felt bad
4:47 PM i just thought "fuck these stories, i hate them"
me: fuck you i hate you
no, don't worry put it down work on the novel you'll go back to them because fuck you they're good
ryan call and i both think so
4:48 PM Shane: hahaha
me: and i mean, we
are fucking awesome
at writing and at being people
Shane: very true
4:50 PM me: so there
once again
i am the best part time half assed intern you could ever ask for
4:51 PM also, really, just about the third or fourth best thing ever you could ask for. top ten maybe. i'll places cede to all sorts of blowjobs.
Shane: you're fired
that's right, i'm firing you
me: WHAT
you can't fire me
Shane: you haven't done anything
the worst
4:52 PM the absolute worst
me: who will get you your fire marshall hat
Shane: ryan manning
or ben brooks
that's right, ben brooks is the new intern
he'll probably do something
and not just sit on the porch reading
me: FINE
Shane: where there is no internet
me: SEE HOW YOU LIKE ME NOT BEING YR INTERN
4:53 PM Shane: should be okay
nothing will change
4:54 PM me: when you wake up to an email from ben brooks but when you open it you think it's from me because you're still sleepy and have been dreaming about me and my emails, and then you read it and realize, unmistakeably, that sasha fletcher did not write this email, as it is capitalized when appropriate, and when this happens you will get a little sadder, but not in a way that will help yr writing, but in a way that will make it just a little bit harder to make it through each day, and also it will make yr erections last for shorter periods of time
incrementally.
but, i accept being fired, as i have done nothing.
4:55 PM you can however not fire me from being your internet friend, as google looks down on that sort of thing
Shane: well, of course
me: alright
if we are settled in all of this, then i accept
4:56 PM Shane: don't let the door hit you on the way out
me: I FUCKING WON'T
Shane is offline. Messages you send will be delivered when Shane comes online
DON'T LET THE SADNESS CHOKE YOU TO DEATH
and i'm not bitter about it one bit.
thinking seriously about cutting this from the book
do not bother me when i am in my airplane suit
don’t take all night
I will fight the army and the navy. I will get rid of all the birds. I will be surrounded by all the balloons that were ever blown up and I will never go into the sky ever again. I will pull thunderclouds from out your stomach until something changes. I will break the steamboat into a million floorboards and steam clouds and we will see what happens. I will walk down the road until my feet have worn away and I will end up at our house which will have been moved overnight or all the houses were moving in one direction while I was moving in another. I will hang from the trees with all sorts of fruits and I will wait for you to come out and pluck me down. I will make a rainbow with my face. I will even clean the windows.
when i go away
There was an ache inside of me. I put it in a tree. The tree ached right open at the roots and fell in half. I planted the pieces in the steamboat. It needed a mast anyway. Or whatever. A chair and a window. That’s what I planted them to grow into. In the steamboat. I sat in the chair. The chair was like a horse. I began to ache again. I ached right open. I was carried away by countless birds. They dropped me right off the edge of the earth, where all the water goes. I came out of the bathtub. You were taking a bath. I was right in your lap. Hey I said. I am going to put you in a light socket and keep you there until you learn your place she said. I said I will place you in a drawer so that when I get back I will always know where you are. Come here she said and I did.
even the dirt was electric
I was thinking about sleeping I was thinking about eating I was thinking about feeling and how that could become electric. I was thinking about being halfway to some other land and I was. I was in a drawer. I was your old teeth. I was nailed to the wall like a memory. Like a way of remembering things. I was a memory. I was a way of remembering things. I was electric.
don’t take all night
I will fight the army and the navy. I will get rid of all the birds. I will be surrounded by all the balloons that were ever blown up and I will never go into the sky ever again. I will pull thunderclouds from out your stomach until something changes. I will break the steamboat into a million floorboards and steam clouds and we will see what happens. I will walk down the road until my feet have worn away and I will end up at our house which will have been moved overnight or all the houses were moving in one direction while I was moving in another. I will hang from the trees with all sorts of fruits and I will wait for you to come out and pluck me down. I will make a rainbow with my face. I will even clean the windows.
when i go away
There was an ache inside of me. I put it in a tree. The tree ached right open at the roots and fell in half. I planted the pieces in the steamboat. It needed a mast anyway. Or whatever. A chair and a window. That’s what I planted them to grow into. In the steamboat. I sat in the chair. The chair was like a horse. I began to ache again. I ached right open. I was carried away by countless birds. They dropped me right off the edge of the earth, where all the water goes. I came out of the bathtub. You were taking a bath. I was right in your lap. Hey I said. I am going to put you in a light socket and keep you there until you learn your place she said. I said I will place you in a drawer so that when I get back I will always know where you are. Come here she said and I did.
even the dirt was electric
I was thinking about sleeping I was thinking about eating I was thinking about feeling and how that could become electric. I was thinking about being halfway to some other land and I was. I was in a drawer. I was your old teeth. I was nailed to the wall like a memory. Like a way of remembering things. I was a memory. I was a way of remembering things. I was electric.
dollar store diamonds fr eyeballs ya hearddd
finished the first draft of my story fr the dollar show tour
anyone that can't make it to national mechanics at 9pm on monday july 13 can feel free to email me fr a copy of the story.
these are two pictures of my item.
here is an excerpt
burning the air between here and there
*
I took out the garbage. Then I took out the recycling. The paper had to have a lid on it. The plastic did not. The garbage men came. I sat on the stoop waiting. What are you doing with all of that I asked. We are he said Building you a beach with it.
*
This seemed hard to believe.
*
There was a cop in the back yard again. He was trying to build a deck. But he didn’t have any wood. I had no idea what he was trying to hammer together back there. Hey I said. Scoot.
*
Failing that I told him to grow me an ocean. I told him I heard they were building us a beach. What I asked Did he think of that?
anyone that can't make it to national mechanics at 9pm on monday july 13 can feel free to email me fr a copy of the story.
these are two pictures of my item.
here is an excerpt
burning the air between here and there
*
I took out the garbage. Then I took out the recycling. The paper had to have a lid on it. The plastic did not. The garbage men came. I sat on the stoop waiting. What are you doing with all of that I asked. We are he said Building you a beach with it.
*
This seemed hard to believe.
*
There was a cop in the back yard again. He was trying to build a deck. But he didn’t have any wood. I had no idea what he was trying to hammer together back there. Hey I said. Scoot.
*
Failing that I told him to grow me an ocean. I told him I heard they were building us a beach. What I asked Did he think of that?
ughbooklife
not sure what to do with the book right now. need to just probably sit around and think for a while. need to go through probably and isolate images and things. in my head it's all of it blurring together. should sit down and write the dollar store piece maybe clear my head a bit. need publishers to accept my poetry manuscript. dear publishers please accept my poetry manuscript please thank you.
i went through everything here is ok and removed any and all mentions of dreams that were not part of a conversation between two people. e.g. 'i dreamed abraham lincoln told me his entire life was a series of elaborate lies' became 'Abramham Lincoln came by to tell me his entire life was a series of elaborate lies.' i am much happier with this decision. ryan and i were talking a while ago and we were talking about doing that about making everything in this book a fact about removing the mention that what is occurring is a dream so that the dreaming and the action are the same thing because dreaming is an action just like eating and also like other actions so it should be that way right yes ok done win
for dinner i am going to make chicken parm for me and my brother because it is fried and he will like that. it will be great.
i think this blog post is done.
listening to the drifters while reading gary lutz is really weird and completely awesome.
i went through everything here is ok and removed any and all mentions of dreams that were not part of a conversation between two people. e.g. 'i dreamed abraham lincoln told me his entire life was a series of elaborate lies' became 'Abramham Lincoln came by to tell me his entire life was a series of elaborate lies.' i am much happier with this decision. ryan and i were talking a while ago and we were talking about doing that about making everything in this book a fact about removing the mention that what is occurring is a dream so that the dreaming and the action are the same thing because dreaming is an action just like eating and also like other actions so it should be that way right yes ok done win
for dinner i am going to make chicken parm for me and my brother because it is fried and he will like that. it will be great.
i think this blog post is done.
listening to the drifters while reading gary lutz is really weird and completely awesome.
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