I don’t own this book. I didn’t buy it, I don’t know what it is, but somehow it’s in my house. Guests. I should’ve learned: I can’t have anyone over. Everyone’s so inconsiderate. Can’t go a day without getting texts, emails, letters or pings on my beeper, asking for this or that: “Oh, do you want to get dinner? Wanna see a movie? Go to a show? Scuba diving?” No! Fuck you! I’m busy… knitting. Not really. Still working on correcting the galleys on my novel, Always a Stone. Anyway this creep Nicky Smith left that Daniel Handler book at my house the other day and he’s not answering my calls. For the record, I don’t approve of this literature, and I think it should be censored. Call me crazy—un-American even—but this is just too pervy for my taste. You know, I have… had… had…
Monica…
•••
“NICKY. Why would you leave that book here?”
This is what I have to deal with. Chickens yelling at me on the phone. Monica phoned me this morning on my way to work, and I almost went deaf. Jesus Christ, this family is insane. Just… for the record. “What book?” More static and feedback. “That weird, pervy young adult book. The Daniel Handler one. Why would you do that? You know how Roo gets when he’s… reminded.”
Oh. Shit. Okay, I should’ve remembered that one. I transcribe all of Rooster’s articles—he still prefers dictation over the phone even though I showed him how to use Siri over a year ago. Says the rhythm of his voice and the sound of me typing over the phone helps him compose. He says he picked that method up from Bob Dylan. Sometimes I wonder if any of his tall tales are true: he told me he was in the hotel room with Dylan playing “Love Minus Zero/No Limit” to a mortified Donovan watching his life pass before his eyes. Rooster disputes that, says Donovan just needed another bump of crank in that close-up from Dont Look Back. I checked my concordance of Rooster’s writing, and I have him solidly in Appalachia for most of 1965. Hang on, he’s calling me—he texted me early about “starting a podcast” and if I’d want to be involved. How should I put it…
•••
Well, I finally did it! I bought an interface and some audio equipment for my podcast. Looking forward to getting it out. It’s going to be mostly home-focused, adult-oriented, lots of big words and small voices. I bought three different compressors to make sure everyone whispers on the show, and I hired a vocal coach to teach me how to upspeak. It’s gonna be fun, I think you’re going to like it. Not ready to reveal the title yet, or the release date, but I can tell you the first episode will be out by the end of the year. Not much else to report here from Roosterland, I’m extremely happy and I’ve never been sad. Sadness is an unnatural emotion and should be suppressed always. So unless NPR or Marc Maron returns my emails, I’ll be releasing the podcast myself through… various platforms. Can’t wait! See you all soon.
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