It seems like the second novel has built-in expectations, like WTF is this about. As a reader, I don’t gravitate to novels that are “about” anything. I love LOVE digression, burrowing, deferring — it’s kind of like surfing, I think, something I’ve never done, but the concept seems apt. Like powering down the face of some kind of exploitation. I used to say exploiting ideas was was dependent on value, you know, choosing to exploit something that had an implicit value, but that may not be true. I just don’t know at this moment.
But I know one thing: writing is no place for modesty. I have to leave it ALL out there for everybody to see.
By the way, I’m reading from Be Safe on July 9 at Beyond Baroque in Venice, CA at 7 p.m. I’m going to be reading from the only chapter with a title beyond a number, “The AIDS Clinic.”
It was my favorite chapter to write, the one where I felt like a writer maybe for the first time in my life.