BOOK.

Listen. I’m drunk and can’t legally sign a contract, but I have a Substack account, (and a woman who’s willing to read whatever nonsense I put here before I post it. Nobody panic.)

I have a book coming out tomorrow, and somehow I’m still around for this event. I mean that I realized last week, while following a man I’d never met to his van, that I’ve been following men I’ve never met to vans. This is what I do now. Somehow, no enterprising serial killer has figured out that all he needs to do is start a podcast, and writers, desperate to get any goddamn air while there’s a goddamn octagon on the White House lawn, will happily follow him to a van and let him stick his hands up our shirt to attach a mic.

Who knew.

I feel like y’all have gotten a front seat to just how long and ridiculous this road to publishing a book takes. Now it’s coming out tomorrow. I’ll do an event at First Light Books in Austin, a few more in the area, then Woody and I are hitting the road again.

I keep telling myself I just don’t know how to be excited because it feels the same as waiting for a verdict. But Juliana’s kind of good at this. So. I am drunk. I am full. (I tried to google “where did we just go to dinner” but I’m gonna have to ask apparently. Hang on. Bar Toti. Fucking amazing.) We’re gonna go hang out with Greg and Lucas. No one is gonna let me touch a phone probably.

In the morning, BOOK. Holy shit. Thanks for hanging out for the ride. Godspeed and whatever. Fuck.

Oh shit. Wait. This review was fucking cool. It’s an extremely cool feeling when someone gets it. Or maybe it means I got it down. Who knows.

If this link doesn’t work. It’s “Hippocampus” and “Monster of a Land” get you there.

Okay. Bye. Or see ya soon!