We had a hell of a good time last night.
Thanks for coming to everyone who came, and thanks to for letting us malign and pimp them at the same time and for bringing us a story about the dreams of the suburbs -- about our dirtiest, filthiest obsessions where the grass grows green and the baseboards on houses are always sealed up tight.
Dr. Future read a story entitled "The New Hat" about a girl who is not rescued from her job by a charming stranger.
I read a story called "God's Big Thumbs" about a legless man who rage-fucks the Dow Jones.
Dead Press is putting together a fiction anthology soon. Maybe you want to send them work. Maybe you are sitting there in your panties, smoking a big fat cigar, thinking:
"I'm a great writer. I got lots of stories. I ought to be fucking published! I could do it! It could be MEEEEEEEEEE!"
Send them your shit before October 30th. And send US your shit if you miss the deadline because you are too busy running guns, running bulls, running craps.
It was a good show. We brutally seized power of the Brooklyn world of fiction as a result of the current market collapse. How do you like our new reign? Do you need anything? Maybe a milkshake?
Bill Chapters didn't make it to our show. The Paris Review was releasing their fall issue and having a party:
Posted by miracle on Fri, 17 Oct 2008 22:08:58 -0400 -- permanent link