Give Caleb a test run. Only $0.99.
Stalk Me
Booked Podcast. Noir at the Bar. The Velvet Podcast.
I’ve been non-stop busy the past few weeks. I feel as though I’ve done nothing, as my to-do list never shrinks. But somehow, as I look back, all that I felt never happened, is done. Here’s a few things:
The wonderful Robb Olson and Livius Nedin at Booked Podcast did a full episode about my work, splitting time with my two newest books, I Didn’t Mean to be Kevin and As a Machine and Parts. The things these guys say, it makes me blush colors of red never before blushed by humans. Listen to the full episode now, and be sure to stay to the end to hear Mlaz Corbier say awesome things about my awesome socks.
Pablo D’Stair and I recorded another episode of The Velvet Podcast. We talked about one my recent tweets:
I hope to have the episode edited and posted within a week. As always, taking with Pablo is a true joy. I hope the listener gets as much from the episode as I got from recording it.
I’ll be reading in St. Louis as part of the Noir at the Bar series at the Meshuggah Café on February, 28th. The next day, I’ll be at the AWP Conference in Chicago just hanging out. Head over to the Facebook event page for more info. You should be there.
Family Guy’s Brian runs over Dean Koontz
(part of my ongoing Unexpected Literary References series)
Though the episode is quite old, I caught this reference to Stephen King and Dean Koontz in the episode called “Brian in Love” from season 2 of Family Guy. On the surface, the gag speaks simply to the poor man’s Stephen King perception of Dean Koontz. But, when you consider the real life car accident that Stephen King suffered in 1999 the gag gets way gaggier.
What is Domestic Grotesque Fiction and Why Do I Write It?
I’ve called myself a writer of grotesque family fiction, but what does that term really mean? I give a brief definition of grotesque domestic fiction, or grotesque family fiction, by way of example, in an earlier blog post:
Take a family situation—usually some sort of broken family dynamic—mix in something grotesque—possibly morbid but not necessarily—and you’ve probably got domestic grotesque.
But I don’t know if that fully captures it. Up front, I have to say that I’ve always been the type to back away from definitions that try too hard to avoid definition. You know the type; those writers who say, “No, I don’t write horror fiction, I write transgressive commentaries on modernist life where social norms are exposed as metaphorical fangs in the collective neck…” But in the world of marketing, it is important to simultaneously embrace and reject established genres. You know, ride coattails while sewing your own. So, I write literary fiction but I actually write domestic grotesque fiction.
With that in mind, I coined the term “domestic grotesque” fiction, which Solarcide called a genre all my own (though, probably because I’ve been promoting the term as my own). In that Solarcide interview, I use a scene from Stranger Will to exemplify the term:
I find something inherently interesting with taking the trope of father/son catch and twisting it just enough to be jarring (re: dead raccoon) but still remain entirely relatable. These subtle twists are where I get the descriptor for my work, domestic grotesque.
So why do I write domestic grotesque fiction? Part aesthetics and part concept penetration. Domestic grotesque fiction isn’t only fun to write, it also allows me to very effectively zero in on an idea by pairing dissimilar concepts. Stranger Will = pregnancy and cleaning up dead bodies. I Didn’t Mean to be Kevin = lost parenthood and body parts. “Click-Clack” = newborn baby (implying potential) and mental retardation (no potential). It’s fun.
Subscribe to be immediately notified when new posts go live:
Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulgrand/451080165/
Am I Jaded? Are Unexpected Literary References Everywhere?
I love cartoons. I love books. I love when these two vices come together. Since June 2010, when I noticed a Shirley Jackson nod in an episode of South Park, I’ve become sensitive to other literary references in pop-culture, specifically cartoons. These past few months have been strong for my Unexpected Literary References series. South Park, American Dad, Looney Tunes, Conan O’Brien, and The Simpsons all delivered.
But what makes this blog post worthy is a comment on a recent-ish blog post (about Neil Gaiman’s appearance on The Simpsons):
“why are they ‘unexpected’? Especially in the programs you tend to feature (especially in the Looney Toons!–not to mention Hannah and Barbara stuff, not that you’ve mention that, yet) it is actually quite expected and part of the draw of the programs.”
What do you think? Am I jaded? Are references to literature in pop culture more common than I give credit for? I’m seriously considering writing a book about the intersection of popular culture with “hi-culture” specifically in regards to cartoons and literature. Help me. Guide me.
