Pics of Radio Success
The kick-ass producer of Seven Second Delay sent me a few photos taken at last Wednesday’s show (taken by Jeff Moore):
Superstar Jeff Trying to Look Pensive While Dori Plays
Author Archive: jsomers
Jeff Somers (www.jeffreysomers.com) was born in Jersey City, New Jersey and regrets nothing. He is the author of Lifers, the Avery Cates series published by Orbit Books, Chum from Tyrus Books, and We Are Not Good People from Pocket Books. He sold his first novel at age 16 to a tiny publisher in California which quickly went out of business and has spent the last two decades assuring potential publishers that this was a coincidence. Jeff publishes a zine called The Inner Swine and has also published a few dozen short stories; his story “Sift, Almost Invisible, Through” appeared in the anthology Crimes by Moonlight, published by Berkley Hardcover and edited by Charlaine Harris. His guitar playing is a plague upon his household and his lovely wife The Duchess is convinced he would wither and die if left to his own devices.
Coffee Apocalypse
I am starting to realize that my whole life revolves around liquids: Without coffee in the morning, I would be a zombie. Without whiskey in the evening, I would be insufferable (After reading something by absent friend Diamat, I suddenly have a craving for Rittenhouse Rye).
I am also toying with the idea that you can add the word “Apocalypse” to anything and create a cool doomsday scenario. COFFEE APOCALYPSE, people. See? Catchy. I sooooo want an Internet meme.
Of course, coffee wasn’t always with us humans, was it? And it may someday be replaced. You have to think about these things when you write SF – what will future humans (or their Giant Alien Ant Overlords) imbibe in the morning to regain sanity? Surely science will gift us with something more efficient than caffeine-suffused broth. Then again, have you seen some of the new-fangled food technologies? <Shudder> No thanks. Still one has to imagine these things, especially if you consider how much work and effort goes into getting your morning java to you. If your SF imagination tends to run dystopic, like mine does, you have to consider a horrible world without coffee, and the terrors it would hold.
But, not today, folks. Not today.
J
Radio Success
Well, Seven Second Delay last night was possibly the most fun I’ve had on the radio evah. First of all, it just proves my theory that Everything is Better In a Bar. Second of all, I got lightly made fun of for ten minutes, which is my idea of a good time.
I was joined by very funny comedian Adam Wade and very talented musician Dori Disaster. Dori provided a musical interlude so Andy Breckman could read a few pages of my book and pretend he knew all about it all along, and she was great.
If you’re so inclined, you can hear a stream of the show over at WFMU’s web page. I’m the first guest, so you won’t have to wait long, but listen to the whole thing, as it’s extremely fun. Thanks to everyone who showed up to drink and hoot at me, and anyone who tuned in.
Big-Assed Famous
Friends, I have arrived: I have finally made the local All-Things-Hoboken Web Site, Hoboken411.com. I can now begin stepping on all the little people. DAMN YOU, LITTLE PEOPLE, HOLDING ME BACK ALL THESE YEARS!
Although the photo they used of me makes me look like a hobo of some sort. Which means it’s entirely accurate, just unfortunate. This is why my official photos are all blurred. DAMN YOU AGAIN!
Also, Matt Good was kind enough to send me a link to his review of The Electric Church, which he apparently enjoyed, so check it out! Thanks, Matt!
On the Radio Again
Hola,
I’ll be appearing on the show “Seven Second Delay” on WMFU (www.wfmu.org) on Wednesday, 12/3, at 6PM. The show is broadcast live from Maxwell’s in my own Hoboken, NJ. Come on down and be part of the live audience and see me stammer in public! Why not!
WHERE: Maxwell’s, 1039 Washington Street, Hoboken, NJ (201)653-1703
WHEN: 6pm, Wednesday, 12/3/08
About the show: It’s done before a live studio audience at Maxwell’s (usually 40-70 guests) as well as broadcast live over WFMU radio. Past guests include Ira Kaplan of the band Yo La Tengo and author Mark Leyner. The hosts are Ken Freedman (the ‘straight-man’ & general manager of WFMU) and Andy Breckman (Exec Producer of TV show “Monk” and a former SNL writer).
See you there!
Alaska: Land of Bearded Mean and Country Music
Jeff & The Duchess’ Eating Tour of Alaska
by Jeff Somers
ONCE again I looked around groggily and found myself on an airplane, packed into a tiny little seat, sweating and needing to urinate desperately. I turned my head and sure enough, there was my wife, The Duchess, reading a tabloid magazine. She glanced up and smiled at me.
“Only eight hours to go!”
I stared in horror at her. “You drugged me again!”
She shrugged, looking back down at her magazine. “It’s the only way to get you on the plane. Otherwise you cause such a scene, what with the crying and the begging and the sudden, mysterious loss of your pants.”
She sighed. “And you just missed the beverage cart.”
It had all started months before, when The Duchess had reminded me that her birthday was coming up. This is always dangerous territory, because a certain amount of pomp is required for The Duchess’ birthdays, and any perceived lack of pomp or enthusiasm for pomp is punished, immediately and severely. Generally speaking, The Duchess likes to celebrate each birthday in a different exotic locale, the farther away the better. Now, since I rank traveling to exotic locales on the same level as having oral surgery, I’m always falling short on the enthusiasm part. This is dangerous, because The Duchess has a keen eye for lack of enthusiasm. Under her steely gaze I often get nervous and made terrible, terrible mistakes. Like suggesting that we travel to Alaska to celebrate her birthday because I’m too stupid to realize that Alaska is further away from New York than just about everywhere else in the universe.
Mo’ Songs
Milled, Swilled
Stepped out with The Duchess to the SFWA Reception (the Mill & Swill, as I hear it’s known) in Manhattan last night. Joined there by the UberAgent, who introduced me around to some folks. I always feel so awkward at these things – it’s like when you’re introduced as a writer, folks want you to be witty and entertaining and possibly pants-wetting drunk. Or at least that’s what I always suspect. A lot of that may be my own issues, I’ll grant you, but I still feel like this happens over and over again:
UberAgent: This is Jeff Somers, author of The Electric Church.
Folks: Ooh, nice to meet you.
Me: Uh. . .yes. . .hi. . .Electric. . .Something. <Jeff’s pants fall down with a comical wilting sound>
Again, maybe my own issues here.
Also met some of my Corporate Masters. As Corporate Masters go, the folks at Orbit are Good People, which, translated, means they like an open bar as much as I do.
We didn’t stay too long, though; aside from my belief that a little Jeff in Public goes a long way, we were also exhausted from a weekend trip. The Mill & Swill is always fun, though, and I think we’ll make an effort to show up every year, if only so I can force the UberAgent to buy me an $11 Glenlivet.
Blog Love Omega Glee
Old zine pal Wred Fright is serializing his latest novel, Blog Love Omega Glee, on his blog (naturally enough – when discussing the book to any degree you tend to use the word ‘blog’ so much it becomes one of those times when the word stops meaning anything to your ears as you repeat it endlessly.
Wred describes it thus: “Two bloggers fall in love while the world falls apart in Blog Love Omega Glee, a comedic novel set in 2012, with each chapter taking place on a different day counting down to the end of the Mayan calendar on 21 December 2012, when the world either ends or continues on much the same as before.”
I read Wred’s Pornographic Flabbergasted Emus when it came out a few years ago and enjoyed it. So I’m gonna tackle his new one (though it will take time as I’m reading about 600 things right now, not to mention writing a zine, several columns, and various other things) and you should too. Heck, it’s free!
TO DIE. IN THE RAIN.
What Kind of Writer Are You, Anyway?
by Jeff Somers
Lord knows my public persona is a carefully constructed straw man made of assumptions, half-truths, ominously oblique remarks, and lurid facial expressions, which is to say there ain’t much meat to it. When confronted, in public, with a careful questioner who begins tugging gently at the loose threads that sprout from my opinions, declarations, and explanations, I can only run in fear and cower behind alcohol, meaning I pretend to pass out and refuse to be brought back to consciousness until the offending person is gone. It doesn’t help, certainly, that I am fact-challenged in most of my positions. I prefer to answer probing questions with brisk falsehoods, and hit the ground running hoping that no one bothers to follow up and discover how much bullshit is inside this wicker man.
This really only becomes a problem when I meet new people who previously have known me only through this zine. My established friends are used to my bullshit, and don’t even bother asking me questions any more – the common sense ones (“Would you like another beer?”) have obvious answers (“Yes, and be quick about it, damn your eyes!”) and the ridiculous ones never occur to them. One of the ridiculous questions which always occurs to strangers, however, is “How do you write?” or one of its tributary questions, like “How do you decide what to write about?” or “How much of your real life is in your writing?”
These questions are ridiculous because, to be honest, I can’t imagine their value to another human being. Write your way, baby, and don’t worry about mine.