Book Release Weekend Part Two (but totally not because I’m too depressed to write part two)

Damn it, James! I waited too long to write the follow-up I promised—the Book Release Party Part Two post. By now, the excitement’s worn off. If I force myself to continue anyway, I’ll fail to summon the enthusiasm and gratitude expressed in part one. I’d either have to adopt a fallacious tone in order to facilitate a consistency of mood between parts one and two, or I could just let my current sourness usurp the optimism I’d intended on carrying through to the follow-up. The latter’s more appealing because it’ll require less work. Hell, it might be fun to defamiliarize the cheerful ground-state of my previously post by telling the rest of the story with a sense of morbid reflection: “So I got up there and read some shit. There were shadows everywhere, but they came from nowhere. Maybe these were the shadows of the literary greats who’d come before me. I swore I could hear them retching as I read. I closed my book and sat down. What else can you do in life but sit? Why stand? Nobody cares about you, or, for the love of God, fiction. Fiction! Ha! What a joke.”

In regards to writing my follow-up, I like the idea of embracing my current nihilistic state, but there’s a drawback. My disavowal of last week’s good cheer will do nothing but emphasize the tonal disparities between parts one and two. A grouchy sequel to a joyful testimony? Imagine We Bought A Zoo Part Two: The Honeymoon’s Over, Bitch! Matt Damon realizes that happiness is no more substantial than a two-week old air freshener hanging over an open sewer. He pushes Scarlett Johansson into a ravine, then sets the zoo ablaze. If I stay true to my gloom, I’ll lose the story and end up demonstrating the irrefutable evidence that I’m emotionally and philosophically inconsistent, that my feelings and world views one day are wholly incompatible with the nonsense in my head the next day.  

See, everything’s been mildly shitty since October 19th. I’ve got high-class problems, so I’ll spare you the tirade. Instead, here’s some good news. I’m going to Orlando this week for something that might be considered a book tour. I don’t have a grasp on what actually constitutes a book tour. I’m doing multiple readings in a small area. Is that sufficient enough? Can you forgive me my tendency to embellish, and just agree that what I’m doing is a fucking book6 tour? I need this line on my CV. Sooner or later, I’ll have a PhD (I hope) and I’ll need a job. I want to say to my interviewers, “Did you happen to catch line 34 on my CV? You don’t recall it? Yes, I agree, there’s a lot. Well, let’s look at it. Right here; this line. Why don’t we read it together? ‘In November of 2012, Don Peteroy went on a book tour of Florida, in support of his novella, Wally.’”

 Yes, the book tour is in Florida. But not all of Florida. Just Orlando. I’ll be reading at an event called Functionally Literate on November 3rd. It’s at Urban reThink, the non-profit connected with Burrow Press. I’ll be doing a reading at the University of Central Florida, and, get this, I’m attending one of the school’s undergraduate writing classes as a guest lecturer or interviewee or some kind of living, breathing, and publically accessible body of knowledge who knows a thing or two about writing a novella.

Here’s what I know, by the way: If you want to write a novella, sit down and write the shit without fucking up. And if you do fuck up, try to stop. Otherwise, when people read your novella, they’re going to think you’re an asshole or something. One person will hand your novella to another person and say, “Read this. Isn’t he an asshole?”  

I’ll be doing other things, but right now, I can’t remember what.  One thing, though: I’ll be looking for you. Not in an active, creepy way, but in a general, hopeful way. I’m optimistic; the likelihood of you showing up at my reading is much greater than, say, persuading Mitt Romney to sit on the steps of his local Planned Parenthood and give free hand jobs to all the men who’ve honored and respected their lovers’ dignity by going to Planned Parenthood together. If you’re interested, I’ve included in this post the day, time, and location. For my reading event. Not for Planned Parenthood hand jobs. But you’re welcome to give out free hand jobs at Planned Parenthood. If you did that, I’d truly know how you feel about me. And you’d know how a lot of horny men feel about you.

I’m back to the original question: should I go ahead and write about the rest of the book release party? I’m inclined to hold off until I’m in a better mood. Maybe once I get to Orlando, I’ll feel less melancholic.

And speaking of melancholy, I’ve written the initial drafts for my first batch of query letters to (specific) agents. I’m currently revising the letters, and finding the task rather arduous because my insecurities keep interfering. I can’t stop my mind from anticipating the difficulties I’ll face once I start asking these agents if they’d be interested in representing my novel. I’m sure you remember going though the exact same ordeal. Any words of advice? Should I look for ways to dodge the query-letter slush pile? Should I forget these letters and go “network” some more? I don’t have the money to go to Bread Loaf, or the money to pay for a 20-minute private consultation and manuscript critique with big-time agent person. I don’t have Jonathan Safran Foer’s phone number anymore. I’m doing street-level unsolicited querying. Nor do I entertain any delusions about finding myself on the receiving end of extraordinarily fortunate outcomes (though I won’t dismiss the possibility). I’ve chosen to put myself up against substantially unfavorable odds, given my choice of topic and characters. Just to give you an idea of how I’m shooting myself in the foot, here’s the rough version of the query letter’s first line:

Dear _______,

My Helicopter Heart is a completed 160,000 word novel about a failed playwright who stalks the actress Kirsten Dunst during the Christian apocalypse.Image

I suppose I could do worse. I could write a memoir in which I contextualize every single fart I’ve blasted in the last year.

What I really want, James, is to see you in Florida. I want us to sit side by side in beach chairs, along the shoulder of a highway leading to Disney World. I want us to smoke cigars and laugh at the traffic. Maybe do a crossword puzzle, listen to an AC/DC cassette on a boom box, see who can fart the loudest and then offer the most high-brow Zizekian contextualization of the said fart, and then call it quits and go our separate ways.  

Go to:

Functionally Literate: A Literary Function.

Saturday November 3rd, 7:00PM

Urban ReThink

625 E Central Blvd, Orlando, Florida 32801


Readings by

(Me. The dude who won the 2012 Playboy College Fiction Contest and wrote Wally)
(founding editor of Saw Palm, author, writing professor at USF)
(poet, author of Satellite Beach)
(founder of Postcard Press, Kerouac Writer in Residence)



Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

About Letters to James Franco

My name is Don Peteroy. I'm a PhD. candidate at University of Cincinnati. My major has a long name, so try to say it in one breath: "English and Comparative Literature with a Creative Dissertation." I spent the majority of my adult years as a social worker. I decided it's pointless to help people, so I've devoted the rest of my life to reading and writing. Here's all my publications and works in progress: My novella, "Wally," published by Burrow Press, in the fall of 2012. Novella: "A World Without Owls" Unpublished. Novel: "My Helicopter Heart" Unpublished. A failed playwright stalks Kirsten Dunst during the Christian apocalypse. My short story, "The Circuit Builders" is the winner of the 2012 Playboy College Fiction contest, and will appeared in the October 2012 issue. Here's are more published and forthcoming short stories: "The Trouble With Hello is Goodbye": Arcadia Magazine 7, 2014. "Kurt Vonnegut Didn't Like Me" Online Sundries, 2/14 "Because I Want to Know You" forthcoming reprint in Short Story America "A Hole Without A Rim," forthcoming in the Florida Review "Keeping it for Good," The Heartland Review. Forthcoming. “A Penny In A Pill Bottle,” Dislocate, Winter 2012. “Because I Want to Know You” Yemessee, 19.2, 2002. “The Sluggers” Santa Carla Review. Spring 2012. “Maps and Legends” Chattahoochee Review. Spring 2012. “Melinda, Listen to Me” Permafrost, vol. 33, 2011. “Rondo” Licking River Review, Fall 2011. “The Ugly Marriage Counselor” Eleven Eleven, vol.11, 2011. “The Healing Frequency” Newport Review, Summer 2011. “His Name Equals His Name” The Ultimate Writer Magazine, Summer 2011. “This Is How I Will Hold You” The Westchester Review, vol. 5, 2011. “In Accordance To The Needs Of A Canadian Literary Magazine” Worcester Review, vol. 31.1, 2011. “Too Much Anthropology” Cream City Review, vol. 34.2, 2011. “There Are No Fragments” Ellipsis, vol. 46, 2010. “Confessions of a Misunderstood Sidekick” Farallon Review, vol.3, 2010 “One Day, God Will Kill Everyone” Oyez Review, vol. 37, 2010. “When Hawks Make Love” The Susquehanna Review, Fall 2009. “Goddess Corpse” The Maynard, Fall 2009. “Misconceptions About the Nature of Blood” CRIT Journal, Summer 2009. “Go Up” The Cynic, Fall 2009. “The Misuse of Old British Words” Two Hawks Quarterly, Spring 2009. “Dead or Unlisted” The Rejected Quarterly, Spring 2003. “Sleep Log” The Timber Creek Review, Spring 2002. There are other stories out there, somewhere, but I've lost track. Awards: “From One Object to Another.” Finalist for the Glimmer Train Short Fiction Award, 2009. “His Name Equals His Name” Finalist for the Gulf Coast Donald Barthelme Award, 2009. “In Accordance To The Needs Of A Canadian Literary Magazine” 2011 Pushcart Prize nominee. "A World Without Owls." Finalist, Gold Line Press Chapbook Contest, 2011. “Confessions of a Misunderstood Sidekick” Sacramento Stories on Stage Series in California, June 2011. "The Circuit Builders" winner of the Playboy College Fiction Award 2012. "The Trouble With Hello is Goodbye" nominated for a Pushcart Award.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

- What Does Not Kill Me -

Richard Thomas writes neo-noir transgressive slipstream fiction. It just means dark and strange.

Phoebe Reeves

Poet, Professor, Performer

Matt on Not-WordPress

Stuff and things.

The Colonial Texan

Southwest goes Northeast

Failure Loves Company

The Literary Misadventures of J. Bradley

Megan Has OCD

About Mental Health, Daily Struggles, and Whatever Else Pops in My Head


Photographs from my world.


easy reading is damn hard writing

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

Typed Slowly

the hows, whats, and whys of beer

Small Press Reviews

Sporadically reviewing small press books since 2007 (or thereabouts)...

The Drunken Odyssey

A Podcast About the Writing Life

Dan Ariely

My Irrational Life

Oyez Review

The literary magazine of the Creative Writing Program at Roosevelt University

Adventures In American Writing

Words depicting Adventures of the Human Brain


elissa lauren field

in the company of words

A Bookish Bi

Everything's better when it's queer.

%d bloggers like this: