BULL!

What do you think of when you think of independent men's fiction? Dockers(r) brand pants, of course.

There's this thing where, if you have a Facebook account, you can vote for indie publisher BULL (fiction for thinking men). If they win, they get some bank. $100K of bank. That's a lot of bank.

Anyway, in order to do this, you have to first "Like" Dockers(r) brand pants. Don't worry, it's all there in the below link. I know, it's a total pain in the ass, but this is what we've done to our planet and so now we have to make do by indirectly selling one another pants. It may leave a nasty taste in your mouth to tangentially become a marketing pawn, but, since I assume BULL will not be devoted (solely) to pants-adoring literature, I think it's a worthy bit of pride swallowing.

Anyway, give BULL a hell of a nice start and vote for their plan here: http://apps.facebook.com/dockerswearthepants/entries/21891.

Vote once a day, every day. If you love pants like I do you'll do it.

Closed Garage Door.

I love this: Closed Garage Door by Allison Carter. It's at 5_Trope.

Am I supposed to use the underscore? I'd hate to look the fool.

Inherent Vice.

I've read some Pynchon in the past-- some, meaning:

1) I have opened "Gravity's Rainbow" approximately three times while sitting on the toilet, read three sentences per visit, and decided that this was obscenely optimistic bathroom reading
2) "Slow Learner."
3) "V." Though to be honest I don't think I finished it. In college I was terrible about abandoning books halfway through

This book is less Pynchon-y than any of those, though it's still crammed with characters who sometimes seem to exist chiefly to be branded with a kooky name (Jason Velveeta) and then disappear. I haven't finished the book yet-- about 60 pages left-- but, if all these characters intend to return, the final pages are going to be like watching an extravagance of weirdos and paranoiacs endlessly disembarking a clown car.

I'm not a huge fan of noir, and a first-timer to hippie noir, if that's even a recognizable genre, but this book-- for all its weirdness and whimsy-- has actually been quite a bit of fun so far. If you can tolerate an eccentric dentist/suspected ne'er-do-well operating from inside a building shaped like a giant golden tooth and later suffering a serious accident on a trampoline, last seen in the presence of a car full of potheads driven by a-- okay, so that's what we're dealing with.

Anyway, I thought it would grate on me. The 60s are not being defined by the writing; little is being made in the way of sinister, braided social commentary, which is possibly what I was expecting. It's more like a costume party. Breezy. Drug-addled. But I'm glad I carried on. The plot is coming together, against all odds. Probably my favorite Pynchon so far, so far.

"Victimized" by Richard Thomas.

Writer and all-around cool guy Richard Thomas has self-published a story entitled Victimized. It's aimed at the neo-noir crowd-- those who enjoyed his novel "Transubtantiate" will certainly dig the vibe. Get "Victimized" on the cheap:



For the Amazon Kindle store version, go here.
For Nook and every other eReader, get it at Smashwords here.