Tags: charles motherfucking bukowski, david foster wallace, jezebel, joan didon, lindy west, michel houellebecq, raccoon cock, taki theodoracopulos
Tag Archives: david foster wallace
Reader Mailbag: What Are You Gonna Do
16 JanVarious concerned readers ask:
Did you get fired yet? When are you getting fired? Do you know what you’re going to do for a job? Are you scared? Etc.
I’m still working, but not for long. Any day. I have found no job, and that’s because I want no job. I want to be unemployed. I want to take a break and write all day, and fuck you, that’s what I’m gonna do. Not “fuck you” as in you, but you know, naysayers. I have fear and insecurity about it, that my writing won’t be any good. But fuck you, it will be good. Or at least, it’ll start out at whatever level it’s at and, one hopes, get better as I practice. Because what you’re seeing is 25 minutes per day. Maybe an hour on the weekends. As soon as I get a good idea going I have to get up and go do some work related shit. No more.
Continue reading
How to Not Kill Yourself
20 AugTony Scott killed himself. Tony Scott made a bunch of awesome movies that kicked ass, lived the A list Hollywood life in the 80’s where he presumably did tons of blow with Don Simpson, made millions and millions of dollars, lived in a nice house, had nice cars, and not one single piece of pussy on the entire face of planet Earth was off limits to him. Late into his life he was still an A list director, the hardest job to get besides President of the United States, and a place in life that thousands upon thousands of people struggle and fail to get to and almost nobody is able to sustain for so many decades. He produced TV shows that will continually crank out sums of money so vast that no one could ever spend it, forever. He worked for his whole life with his brother. Most of us can’t stay that close with our families and wish we could. He jumped off a bridge.* Continue reading
National Novel Writing Month
9 MayIt was National Novel Writing Month in November. I sat down and tried to write a novel for about three minutes. Here’s what I came up with:
BOOM! A huge explosion. This is the first thing that happens in my National Novel Writing Month novel. A gigantic explosion. Massive wall of radioactive fire eating up the whole sky; trees instantly incinerated. Seagulls knocked out of air currents and turned to ash. Rocks melted to glass. Buildings crushed, like toys, in a toy crushing machine. Crushed like toys during National Toy Crushing Month. Cars, also like toys. Why is it always “like toys,” as though we crush our toys any more than we crush our normal-size possessions. Toys are valuable. Specifically to children, who are the people who own toys– nothing is more valuable than toys. But anyway, these things are crushed like toys. Like toys being crushed by a toy nuclear blast, except– this is not a toy.
Oceans evaporated. The whole world now feels like a small unventilated bathroom after a long shower. Sharks withering on the beach– once majestic, the king of the sea. But who’s the king now? No one. No one, you stupid fucking shark. Continue reading
Diary 4/2/11: David Foster Wallace
6 MarI got the new David Foster Wallace. It doesn’t come out for a few weeks, so, I got it early. Because I am the type of person who can call swanky book agents and request early copies of high profile books because I can pretend I am interested in making it into a movie. So now I am taking this book everywhere. Hoping someone will notice. Hoping someone who is a) attractive, b) a woman, and c) between the ages of 18 and 33, will know a) who David Foster Wallace is, b) despite the fact that he is dead, he has a new book coming out, and c) that this book does not come out for two more weeks and therefore this man who is carrying it must be interesting and important.
This has never worked in the past. Particularly not with my galley of THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING that I conspicuously left on my end table for months before it was published, taking care to write the name of the book in sharpie on the unmarked ICM covers. Even though everyone says they love Joan Didion.
I think, for this to work, it would have to be something by David Sedaris. All girls say they love David Sedaris. In fact, every single girl in the entire internet dating universe lists their favorite book as “anything by David Sedaris.” So now I will have to find out when David Sedaris has a new book coming out, procure a copy from his agent for film and television rights consideration, and walk around town with whatever side says (book you’ve never heard of by David Sedaris,even though you love David Sedaris and know about everything he’s ever written) facing out, and then make quick eye contact with whatever attractive woman happens by and squints briefly in puzzlement at the cover. Which sucks, because Sedaris just had a new one, that one about animals, and he only comes out with a book like every three years.
New Book
delicioustacos 