The hideous demonic manifestation calls itself Bertram, and informs him that he will destroy Kat, but only after Jaggo falls in love again. Additionally, killing off Kat comes with a price; Bertram must also kill someone Jaggo loves.
From here until the thrilling fireball-filled conclusion of the novel, Bertram follows Jaggo around, observing his movements, drinking all his beer and liquor, and making irreverent commentary. Inevitably, Jaggo meets a woman who is perfect for him, but he is afraid to fall in love with her for fear that she will be the one the animani takes as a price for Jaggo’s ill-advised incantation.
Much obliged, Heathens; much obliged. My occasional penchant for modern metal has not gone unrewarded by whatever Teutonic deity is in charge of karma (hey, I said it was occasional).
Brand new paperback edition, with attractive matte finish cover and devilish cover art by Mike Browarski, available within 24 hours (or whenever the Amazon censor gnomes finish making sure my trim size isn't stupid)!
I hope you listened and did not pay the used book sharks, because the Mike Browarski cover for the second edition of Andy Nowicki's THE DOCTOR AND THE HERETIC AND OTHER STORIES is ready. A. It looks FANTASTIC, and B. The stuff inside is fantastic as well, as many reviewers and happy readers of the first edition could tell you more objectively than I could:
So get ready. Andy and I will be interviewing each other about the release and our other new projects in the next couple of days to celebrate, so if you can't get enough of book nerds talking shop then you've got that to look forward to as well!
If you aren't thrilled with the idea of paying eighty bucks for a gently used copy of THE DOCTOR AND THE HERETIC (AND OTHER STORIES) on Amazon, despair not (well, at least don't despair about that): Hopeless Books is going to reprint that sucker as soon as we can get a new cover for it.
Here's a teaser (one of my favorite bits):
always understood perfectly, in fact, that human suffering took many forms, and
that its root reached down much deeper where its bitter fruit met the eye in
its most spectacularly awful manifestations in the world. Genocide was bad, of
course; hunger and poverty were intolerable; racial discrimination a disgrace,
but even if it were possible to remedy these evils, you still wouldn’t have the
thing out at its foul and festering origin, for the source of suffering lies in
the very fact of life itself. ...
Church had stepped to a certain point, to the very edge of the cliff in fact,
but had refused to go farther. Fenton the newly-minted heretic now realized
that he alone must go farther. His fated trajectory would lead him to a
far distant destination.
Does it seem like the same reviewers review all of our books? That's because once you taste one, you need to cram the whole thing in your head. Like a gigantic bag of salted snack chips, except we ain't selling ya artificial flavorings.
I was so busy coding goddamn 50-cent-off coupons for ten hours a day when this came out that I didn't even post it... Matt Forney is the first person to even bother to review this book since it was written in god knows when, I think I'm going prematurely senile. Thanks a lot, day job! You're always such a boon to my "career."
Andy Nowicki is making the poor man's talk show rounds once again... buy his books, people, get the man off this treadmill!
...although he kinda sounds like he's having fun talking to Matt Forney on his Podcast Extravaganza about the sinister side of beauty, among other interesting things... this is one of those interviews where you're going to need a pen to take down the reading suggestions. Not that you shouldn't buy BEAUTY AND THE LEAST first, of course...
Matt Forney's Podcast Extravaganza features TWO Hopeless interviews this month:
1. Released this Tuesday, STINKING DEATH, ECSTATICAL LIFE was Forney's conversation with Ann Sterzinger (NVSQVAM, The Talkative Corpse) about why Lena Dunham and Dave Eggers should be thrown into the Tiber in a bagful of rats.
The podcast also covers Hopeless Books' upcoming release of Andy Nowicki's BEAUTY AND THE
LEAST, Kingsley Amis's writing tips for his shitty son, how Celine got funnier as he kept getting blacker, the dedication to craft of today's aspiring journalists (hint: there was plagiarism—OF WIKIPEDIA!), and Generation X's official decision to adopt Forney so he doesn't wind up legally required to spend 20 hours a day writing essays about GIRLS and/or complaining about his latte:
2. Slated to come out Tuesday after next—AND ALSO SLATED TO COINCIDE WITH THE HOPELESS BOOKS RELEASE OF BEAUTY AND THE LEAST, hooray!—Forney will interview BEAUTY's author, Andy Nowicki (THE COLUMBINE PILGRIM, CONSIDERING SUICIDE). The duo's previous interview is archived here:
Yes, that which is beautiful
allures, entices, draws one to itself, invites one to partake in a seemingly
heavenly embrace… yet one must understand the bitter riddle it represents. We need beauty, because beauty escorts us
through our ordeals, infusing them with meaning; beauty, in short, helps us to
feel less alone. But perhaps on this point I should “speak for myself,” as they
say, rather than generalizing for all humanity, a group for which I am
particularly loath to advocate, hearty misanthrope that I am.
Yes! I will speak for myself, dropping
all pretense of humanist piety. Yes, yes. It is best to approach things in such
a manner, particularly since no one who reads these words will appreciate my
insistence on putting themselves in my place, as I am a terrible man, indeed.
No! Perhaps not a terrible man, but—all the worse!—simply a pitiful man, the sort you deride and
laugh at, the sort whose behavior makes you cringe, and mutter to yourself,
“There but for the grace of God…” But there is more to the story, and that
“more” is what renders me terrible; yet even in my terribleness, I still remain
essentially pitiful. Thus I am robbed even of the dignity that accompanies
being a straightforward, thoroughgoing villain.
"If you are a conservative man, even reading the first 12 pages would
be like medieval dentistry, or more like having some punk spit in your
face while you tried to brush your teeth. If you are a woman, reading Under the Nihil would amount to reading
the journal of the creep who fantasizes about raping and murdering you. If you are a liberal person, reading this book would very likely
leave you with the sensation that someone defecated in your brain, with
the tragedy compounded by the fact that they did so with your consent."
While we await the finishing details of the cover design for Andy Nowicki's BEAUTY AND THE LEAST with bated breath, I'll go ahead and tease you with a cut from my publisher's preface to the work. Don't worry, teasing swipes from the text itself will appear here on Thursday; it'll take me a bit longer to pick the most likely bit from that.
The intention of the nous,
the question of whether God, or the Mind of the Universe, or however you
imagine the face of your tormentor, has a plan for you—or whether he has it in for you— is off the table in our animated-graphics-packed world of public
The question of whether God is real or not
makes far better video: Of course He’s good if He’s real, and there’s a
Paradise you’ll be missing, you filthy and hideous sinner!—and if he isn’t,
then of course you’re an ass for believing in him, and of course I’m right, you
unwashed bumpkin! And of course the equally important question of who He, in
His infinite love and wisdom, loves the best, is even more cinematic: Sometimes
people throw punches! (Or airplanes.)
For the time, it seems, the actual nature of
the soul of the universe has been taken for granted, at least in the blessed
realm of the televised and viral. Its inky black holes and meaningless
waste spaces, literal and metaphorical, have been relegated to the less glamorous
realm of science and the even less glamorous, more obscure, and tattered hovel
of the written word. Fiction in particular.
Enter some losers.
OK, that's enough for now. Wait a few days and get ready to throw the author a few denarii for his labors, he's got a family to feed. And all profits that don't go to Amazon go directly to the authors. Go ahead, call me a hippie, I can take it.
...by one of the most hated life forms on the intertubes (so said a couple of bloggers, anyway), noted Celine fancier Matt Forney. Hooray for hate!
"And the ending… I won’t spoil it, but it had my jaw hanging, mainly because it’s a happy ending (by Sterzinger’s standards anyway). The Talkative Corpse succeeds because it’s honest,
True loserdom isn’t your rich daddy sending you to rehab after one
too many speedballs. It’s living paycheck to paycheck due to a rigged,
failed economy. It’s being ritualistically humiliated day after day by
your boss, who does it for no other reason than because she can. It’s
being emasculated and dumped by your girlfriend of six years, then
spending the next half-decade without so much as a kiss from another
And true loserdom sure isn’t celebrated by the fucking mainstream media."