here's serpentor, cobra emperor, the supreme amalgamation of 10 of the greatest military leaders in history, chilling with my first published novel, "mechaniks." it was supposed to be a revenge noir melodrama set against the backdrop of '60s baseball, but i probably blew a fair amount of those good intentions. questionable southern affects, a little too much roeg worship, amateur-hour plotting. there's enough good stuff that i've since george lucas-ed it into a (i think) half-decent screenplay. i'm sure costner will be thrilled.
anyway, i teared up when i got my first copy from the publisher (mccarren, now sadly defunct; amazon has it cheap), but then again, i teared up when lucas duda threw a potentially game-ending game-five world series putout at home into the backstop, so... yeah. (i'm not hyperlinking that.) my friend julia did the cover, but i maybe should've vetoed "blood-smeared baseball." let's all be psyched i didn't reverse the "k." i was just real, real happy to have a published book.
FUN FACT: i did a "signing" at a wilkes-barre barnes & noble for this thing that was maybe the single-most pathetic moment of my adult life (saying a lot), but eating here made it almost worth it. granted, i eat totino's party pizzas these days with alarming regularity, so what do i know, but sizzle pi definitely helped the cause.
less fun fact: this story was directly inspired by this incident.