Welcome to the Terror Dome

Hi. How's things? Workin hard? No? Good. You have time then. (Assuming you are, I just came off like an ass... get used to that.) So thank you for stopping by. Hope you enjoy the stuff whored out here.

Hopefully you're reading this first. Like I said, it'll save you time when it comes time to comment because after wasting time to read this you should definitely comment, right? Just to feel vindicated? Yeah, comment! Good idea!

To the point, now: I absolutely hate MLA style and another other grab-bag of literary crap most completely out of touch with reality poindexters wants to cram down your throat. My influences bare this out: Kerouac, Bukowski, Cassady, Ginsberg, Dylan, Waits, Springsteen... Amy Palladino. They having been namechecked you can randomly assume that you can find these things in my work:

1.) A complete disregard for form accept where some utterly abstract rhythm or breath catches my attention or I'm doing something as a shameless ploy for drama. Both a lost cause when you can read things however you want, but I do it anyway. It's anti-intellectual intellectualism. Also, it breeds REALLY long sentences that somehow aren't run-ons.

2.) There's going to be swearing. Like a sailor. Who's drunk. And on shore leave. And just got the clap from a Somoalian midget he thought was a horse. Sometimes even unnecessary amounts. Why? Because people swear. The people I tend to hang around with and write about anyhow. Damn it.

3.) I think I'm funny. "Not a damn thing you do is funny to me." Yeah? Well, hello, killjoy. How was Christmas? Didja get it good and ruined for all the little circus freaks in Whoville?
Pandering aside, I tend to go extremely dialogue heavy. And quippy. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's not. I try to cut the parts that ain't. But, the Beat influence means I can't keep myself from shameless stream-of-consciousness. Which leads us right to...

4.) Steam-of-consciousness. Ninety-nine percent of the time there's an actual plotline so it's cut down than most of the other times you'll see it, but I don't really plan anything out until it hits the page. First thought, best thought and all that good, lazy crap. I edit, but usually for reasons other than brevity.
A good thing to check out if you somehow get confused:
"Tangled Up in Blue" by Bob Dylan. That's generally how I structure things. Cubist.

5.) You can readily expect to see vagrants, criminals, and anti-social pseudo-anarchists romanticized into heroic roles, a complete lack of interest in formal grammar, girls who's names end in -y or -ie populating the landscape like ragweed, references to anything and everything under the sun, swearing, cars, guns, booze, drugs, leather, and sex. And sex and sex and sex and sex. Shattered. My brain's been battered. Splattered all over Manhattan.
See?

...and, like, as far as genre? It's straight fiction. I don't really think there's a name for it. Historical fiction, neo-Beat fiction, underground fiction... Pick a name. Doesn't matter. None of this matters. If you recognize anybody on my influence list you should sorta know what to expect.

So.
There you go.
All stuff you could have easily figured out on your own, but I wanted to feel helpful. Enjoy.


Thank you.