I can’t believe the book’s official launch is only 30 days away! It’s been such a long, surreal, and gloriously delirious haul—did I really start this journey 14 years ago? Apparently I did. Apparently I’m insane. Hahaha. But holy shit, IT’S HERE!

Which brings me to two exciting announcements:

First, although the official launch date is April 10th, 2014, there’s no such thing as exactitude when it comes to dates in the world of publishing, since books will hit different distributors, wholesalers, and retailers at different times. And so it’s happened that the E-book version of the book is already available for the Kindle, iPad, and Kobo devices! I’m trying not to make a huge deal of this, because the publisher and I have spent so much time trying to run a coordinated April 10th launch, but if you’re reading this, and want an E-Book version instead of the paperback, by all means, hit it!

And second: I’m insanely thrilled to say we’ve just confirmed our first bookstore event! I’ll be reading and signing at the gorgeous Skylight Books bookstore in Los Angeles on April 3rd at 7:30PM. Expect a little reading, a little performance art history, and of course, a lot of crazy. And YES, we will have paperbacks for sale—the real deal! I would LOVE to see you there! (And if you’re not in L.A., don’t worry, there are plenty of other cities and dates, with more coming!)

Many people ask why my novel, Two Performance Artists Kidnap Their Boss And Do Things With Him, has such a long title.

Answers:

1. It’s ridiculous (and therefore, I hope, memorable).

2. It references Hank and Larry, the novel’s performance art protagonists, who believe that every performance art piece should be given a title that simply says what the piece is about. Example: “Slap My Face With A 2-Pound Trout.”

3. My first boss (who is now a billionaire) gave me this marketing advice: “The best name for a thing just tells people what it does.” Maybe he was on to something.

First things first: the 100 Performances for the Hole at SOMArts January 4th in San Francisco killed, with 100 consecutive performers each doing a 4-minute piece in a 4-foot concrete hole in the gallery’s floor. The crowds were amazing—half drunk and game for anything, their numbers ranged from 200 to 400 at any given moment. My inner art critic felt there wasn’t enough site-specific attention paid to the hole by the performers generally, but there were some amazing spectacles nonetheless, with one of my favorite pieces being “Bare Suit” by 100-Hole veteran, Pete Ippel.

My piece, Echolocation for the Unconscious, involved a quick rundown on the history of the mischievous Greek nymph Echo, tips for measuring echo distances in time and space (the distance from yourself to yourself), and then my following my echoes down into the concrete rabbit’s hole with the aid of a rappelling harness and rope. Fortunately, the far end of the rope was held tight by my pals Ryan and Patrick, two super-strong dudes. But unfortunately, the ground was slippery from a prior band of performers who’d sprayed the floor with tissue paper confetti. When the time came to rappel, my helpers slipped on the paper, causing me to fall 4 feet (almost) flat on my face…but it looked great. I only suffered a busted-up thumb and a pulled shoulder. And in its drunken exuberance, audience members began echoing everything I said almost from the beginning—sometimes a few people, other times hundreds—the sound was gorgeous. No doubt, somewhere Echo was laughing her ass off off off.

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: I just learned that the bound galleys for Two Performance Artists have arrived! They’re large & sexy, a full 8.5 x 11″ for easy reading, and available in E-formats also for Kindles, iPads, and all the rest. If you’re a book reviewer, hit me up for your copy! The novel comes out April 10th—just three months away!

I opened the email and there it was: “Kirkus has just published its review of your novel.” Oh god. My first review! I instantly felt nauseous.

I’ve long tried to mentally brace myself against the people who don’t like performance art, who aren’t interested in caper novels, or the ones who simply revel in burning novels to the ground…but I really, really was praying that my first review wouldn’t be a pan. I wanted a kind omen—just one—for the start.

I read it as fast as I could. And, to my joy, the review was generous & kind. OMG, relief.

The reviewer’s main beef was with the plotting, which Kirkus found to be indelicately paced, given my tendency to pile on more and “more craziness until the proceedings implode.”

I had to disagree—not because I think I’m innocent of crazy-piling, but because doing so was entirely appropriate for the story. Because it’s a madcap novel. Really, what caper comedy doesn’t pile on the craziness? It’s entirely appropriate. And what performance art piece worth its salt isn’t at least a little wacko? I applauded the spirit of the critique, but felt it was a bit of a straw man; given my subject matter and genre, I’d say the reviewer missed his mark by an inch on this point. I’ll take crazy. Absolutely.

That aside, the rest of the review was swoon-worthy: “raucous debut satire…whip-smart prose…a fertile, scabrous comic imagination that feels like a mashup of Rain Man and Fight Club.” Rain Man and Fight Club? YESSS!

Of course, he left out 9 to 5, Pulp Fiction, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, A Clockwork Orange, Sneakers, and The Burbs, but Kirkus, I so forgive you. Hahaha

The full review is here.

The TWO PERFORMANCE ARTISTS book trailer is here! You can play it below, or watch it on YouTube.

To learn more about how it was made, check out the novel’s FAQ page. And to the tireless cast, crew, and volunteers who made it all happen: THANK YOU!

11:34 PM. I just finished printing the PDF—it’s the designer’s first try at the novel’s interior layout. And . . . relief: she made it look lovely.

But that thought is short-lived. Because this all suddenly feels surreal—maybe even like some kind of prank—my holding it now, here, in my hands, after having spent so many years thinking about it. I wrote this? I’m in disbelief. Reading through it again now, the text feels new, alien, so removed from me. Maybe it wrote itself? And I’ll admit it: starting now, I am officially nervous as hell. The web site and trailer are about to go up, the PR’s about to hit the wires, and in a month or two, reviews will begin popping up as people actually begin reading this thing! All of my generalized self-doubt—and terrors about what I did or didn’t write right—and the realization of my boyhood dream, of one day writing the kind of novel that I would want to read—these have all coalesced under tectonic-like pressure into the diamond now held in my hands. “Any press is good press” is fine for playboys, but what about for first-time novelists? I’m scared, but also exhilarated, to find out.

“For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with howls of execration.”
    —Meursault, just before the guillotine . . .
        . . . and every performance artist’s dream.
 
From The Stranger, Albert Camus, 1942

It’s been crazy since July when we began shooting the novel’s trailer, but the footage is DONE and editing is well underway. The HD & 35mm footage are stunning, thanks to the cast & crew & lab.

But more importantly, the novel’s interior layout has begun, and the cover art is complete—I can’t wait to hold the first copy in my hands! Early reader quotes have also been pouring in. The latest, from Marc Wilmore, Writer & Producer of The Simpsons: “A well-written, hilarious adventure I’d recommend to anyone.” Holy shit, I’ll take it!

I just finished watching Jack Smith and the Destruction of Atlantis, an incredible documentary from 2006 by Mary Jordan on performance art forefather, Jack Smith. I’m an idiot for not having watched this sooner. If you’re a fan of Jack Smith—or of Warhol, Fellini, John Waters, Jonas Mekas, or if you’re an artist or an art patron or a wacky postmodernist—trust me, it’ll blow your mind, witnessing Smith’s influence on pretty much all things art. No doubt, he was a god. I dont know if this is official, or how long it’ll stay up, but Destruction of Atlantis is presently on YouTube here.

Our small-but-mighty crew has begun shooting the Two Performance Artists video trailer! The first shots were in San Francisco—we spent the day dodging Tenderloin freaks at the corner of Turk and Taylor, and trying not to fall from a rooftop where the sun’s heat was intense in spite of freezing wind and swirling white clouds that were so low we could almost touch them.

Days 2 & 3 were in Hollywood, where we shot bits of the novel’s skating scene, and later, a narrow alley exterior that turned out to be right beside the studios of surrealist photographer & artist David LaChapelle.

For my fellow cinephiles, shooting was on a Nikon D7000 with its standard 18-105mm telephoto lens, a Nikor 35mm 1.8 prime, a Tokina 11-16mm 2.8 wide angle, and a Sony HDR-XR200 for backup. For an upcoming apartment interior, I’ll be using a wind-up 35mm Bell & Howell Eyemo. Loading it is a bitch (requires doing it blindly with safety scissors in a change bag), but the look is gonna be sick!

I don’t want to give too much away, so for now, here are just a couple of footage samples. Release is scheduled for October—about 6 months before the book’s publication date.  Can. Not. Wait.

Alex Madrigal, illustrator extraordinaire, has started work on the book’s cover art. Although my freehand sucks, I did him the “favor” of putting together a rough movie poster-style comp to give him some idea of the book’s zodiac of characters & action. The result was insane, and proof that I probably need my Photoshop examined. But if you look closely, you’ll see Bill, Stark, Mouse, Hank, and Larry (Hank and Larry are the women skating in the tighty whities—it was 1 a.m. and I was too tired to bother looking for appropriate heads, so for now, they’re women; no harm there). Lovely. Brace yourself, then click here to see the whole picture in all its glory.