Pope Blake Butler I posted words of fire: basically, quit whining and get your balls in gear writers, editors, readers, everyone everywhere. Work! Unite! Create! Do what you do and don't pan the rest of the world for not doing things your way. Okay, I said the last part, but still.
Also, congratulations to Blake for getting his novella EVER accepted for publication at Calamari Press. Calamari makes beautiful things out of beautiful words. This is only the beginning of a long and powerful bibliography by Blake Butler. I would start a press just to publish the books he has written so far. Someday, when the academics, historians, and theorists try to name this moment, they will use the publication of Blake's work as the opening of something. I do not feel that I am exaggerating when I say that. No irony or smart-assness is in my voice. Congratulations and thank you to Blake.
Today's words for feeling: Fear Safety Protection Danger Locked Covered Insured Ensured Threat Safety Protection Safety Protection Safety Protection Safety Threat Protection Protection Threat Safety Threat Protection Threat Threat Threat Safety Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat Threat
I am in Traverse City today at the film festival, which is coordinated by Michael Moore. Sarah and I are meeting my friend Steen Wichmann this afternoon to see a documentary film called Trumbo, and then get some dinner.
Madonna is here for the film fest. Word is that Steen's girlfriend is driving her around this weekend. It's an interesting swirl of things: Steen is adapting my short story Memorabilia into a screenplay he hopes to direct, and Madonna's remains are the centerpiece of the story. It's the longest shot ever that the film will ever get produced without either costing all the money in the world or serious repercussions from the material girl's legal staff.
I don't know what I would even say if I did happen to meet her. Maybe something like this:
MADONNA: (looking at me, waiting for me to prostrate myself)
ME: um, hi . . .
MADONNA: (still waiting)
ME: Yeah, so, saving Africa with your compulsory celebrity power, huh? That's cool.
MADONNA: Yes, donate your money.
ME: Okay, yeah, I'll think about it.
MADONNA: Don't you know who I am?
ME: Sure I do. Aren't you Jesus's mom?
ME: Well, it was nice meeting you. You're not on my bucket list, but it's still pretty cool I guess.
I don't know what I would say, honestly. "Um, I never really liked your music"? "I should be trembling and stammering right now, but I'm kind of anxious to get some dinner"? Good thing is, I don't have to worry about it anyway.
If anyone is interested in supporting a super-indie film featuring the body parts of Tom Cruise, Madonna, and other fun celebrities, and a guy who just wants to get back everything he pissed away; or interested in finding someone with a lot of money who does, just drop me an email. Steen is an ambitious and talented guy and I'm excited to see what he makes of this twisted story.
Got my copy of Jesse Ball's Parables & Lies published by The Cupboard, a sweet new publisher of pamphlets containing longer works between 4,000 and 8,000 words. I subscribed and I can't wait to see what The Cupboard publishes next. I'm also excited as a writer, since so many of my stories want to run so godawful long. I just don't know when to stop. P&L is beautifully crafted linguistically and objectively (am I using that correctly?); the writing is wonderful, of course, and the object itself is very high quality. I really like what I've read of P&L so far. Well worth the subscription on its own.