Eraserhead Press’ publishing schedule will see a new bizarro book available at the start of every month. But right now, a few of them are available for preorder! Any of these books would be a wise use of your Christmas money.
The first is Jimbo Yojimbo, a redneck samurai epic available at the start of the new year. Preorder it!
Later that month comes Larissa Glasser’s F4, available January 15th. Preorder it!
Then in February comes I Have No Idea What I’m Doing by Andrew Wayne Adams. Preorder it!
And then all the way in July comes another Carlton Mellick III book, Neverday. Preorder it!
By Michael Allen Rose
If I were to ask you what Catholicism, theoretical cosmology and licking asses have in common, there’s a possibility that the jokes would write themselves, and yet many would remain confused, wracking their brains and softly punching their genitals in consternation, trying to find the elusive connective material between the three. When a solution began to present itself, I would introduce mutant bees that sting with the power of a hundred aphrodisiacs, and then, just to put the cherry on top of the metaphorical anus of meaning, and to continue to defy the agile tongue of understanding, I would tell you that you can’t transubstantiate into a living pig without some complications. Then, I would tickle you until you peed your pants. The look on your face at that exact moment would be the same look you would have during your reading of Janitor of Planet Anilingus by Andrew Wayne Adams. Like me, you also wouldn’t be able to put the book down until you had completely devoured this smart, hilarious, and completely bizarre story.
Writing with a wit and wisdom that defies the seemingly crass subject matter, Adams brilliantly executes one of the best satirical novellas I’ve seen in a long time. The universe is filled with planets that cater to very specific sexual acts, all run by a bureaucratic Catholic Church from their headquarters on the sun. There are legends of an old era, an existence that wasn’t ruled by the church and not every waking moment was dedicated to sexual fetishism and debauchery (outside of Lent, of course). Nobody knows what happened to make things the way they are, and Adams deftly works this central idea into an epic mystery that underlies the entirety of the book. His prose sings with a combination of perfectly crafted comedy and dire science fiction, with a great witty edge that cuts to the heart of religion, sex, class and any number of other subjects central to the status quo. This is a manuscript that doesn’t mind wondering aloud “Does love exist? What is the nature of existence?” while throwing a poop joke and a load of raunchy sex acts at the reader without batting an eye.
The characters are fun, and easy to identify with, especially the titular hero, Jack. When Jack, the only person on the planet, left to clean up the mess during Lent, finds that he is not alone, things begin to go absolutely insane. Nimue, the unnaturally speedy and strange woman from the water, Jack’s boss Bishop Eichmann, who appears from the ground as a pile of holy debris and Virgil, a dangerous man working for a mysterious behind-the-scenes power structure add so much colorful character to the cast, it’s almost criminal. The shifting alliances and over-the-top comedy of these characters propel the action of this book, and somehow Adams is able to keep everything consistent and driven, despite the madness. There are some obvious parallels here as well between Janitor of Planet Anilingus and other works. Like Dante’s Virgil of the Inferno, Jack’s Virgil leads him through a sort of hell. Toward the end of the book, tropes from the Alien films and other sci-fi classics are turned inside out and exploded. There are plenty of the usual bizarro genre gross-out moments (such as the symptoms from what might or might not be an STD) but they’re written so hilariously that the reader can’t wait to see what’s next, scatologically speaking. I can not say enough about how much fun I had reading this book, and would suggest that anyone who wants to laugh until they poop themselves pick this up post-haste.
By Spike Marlowe
November is just around the corner. This also means Eraserhead Press is about to decide which of this year’s New Bizarro Authors are going to have the opportunity to work with them again in the future.
I thought it would be fun and informative to interview this years’ authors, both so I could better get to know them, and so you could get to know them, too.
If you like what you read here, I highly encourage you to check out the authors’ books NOW. This is the last month that the New Bizarro Authors’ sales are counted as part of their sales quota in order to become full on bizarro authors.
A lot of children’s literature is pretty bizarro, so it was probably something like that. I’m not sure, really. I have terrible amnesia.
2. Do you have any phobias?
Social phobia. This seems to have gotten better, though, over the years. But it still lurks around quite a bit. I try to just imagine people in their underwear, or in their bondage masks, or whatever. But yeah, anyone who talks to me, you should know that I am probably on the verge of vomiting on you out of sheer discomfort.
If I puke on you and you still want to be my friend, that’s how I know you’re special.
Also, I’m afraid of death.
3. What’s the strangest real life bizarro experience you’ve had?
Life itself! But if I have to pick one: Being in the military. That was pretty weird. I thought it would be funny to join, so I did. Basically I joined a cult, because that’s what the military is. I had always wanted to join a cult! I got brainwashed, turned into a killing machine. Actually, I worked in an office and drank coffee. I was a coffee machine. But they still brainwashed me, I swear. They made me strip nude and yelled at me. I no longer knew who I was. I was not me. I was THEM. I was a satellite dish.
4. Kafka or lemon crepes?
5. The pigs and chickens you gave Justin Grimbol and I at BizarroCon after your Janitor of Planet Anilingus reading last year were very salty. How do you account for this?
That is a special seasoning known as “fear” which certain plastic animals secrete when they are in line to get rung up at the cash register of the toy store.
6. Do you dream in dubstep?
I do. How did you know? Dubstep pretty much defines me. In fact, I have to end the interview here, because I realize that there’s no point in saying anything more, when all I have to say is “dubstep” and there I am. That’s me.
by Andrew Wayne Adams
The boy felt sick. Something he ate. He stared at the table, not at the girl across from him. On his plate, whatever had made him sick—the half-eaten peas, the half-eaten ham, the half-eaten peaches and cream—was laughing silently at him. He pushed the plate aside.
The girl stabbed her fork into his peaches and cream. He wanted to warn her. She was too quick, already chewing… a dribble of cream turning clear on her lip…
Maybe it wasn’t the peaches and cream, he hoped.
She made a face.
It was the peaches and cream.
The boy held his belly. He said, “It’s not my fault. I’m sorry.”
The girl stabbed her knife into her belly. She opened herself from pubis to sternum, reached in, and pulled out the bag of her stomach. She sliced the bag open; gastric juice poured out. She reached in, scooped out the peaches and cream, and started raking clean the walls, her long nails (painted red) scraping the tissue raw. She let the peaches and cream fall to the floor, where it landed in an unexplained dog bowl that was dirty.
“All better,” she said, and put her voided stomach on the table. “The difference between you and me is, when I have an issue, I address it directly. I won’t just sit and suffer.”
The boy said, “Suffering is sweet!”
The girl passed out due to being disemboweled. Her face hit the table, right where her stomach was, and the stomach made a sound like a whoopee cushion. She was beautiful and empty.
Wincing in gastrointestinal distress, the boy slid off his seat, down to the floor. He pulled the dirty dog bowl close and lowered his face to it.
Andrew Wayne Adams has, in fact, actually eaten both peaches and cream. He wrote a book called Janitor of Planet Anilingus. He now lives in Portland where he is happy and successful.
Ash Wednesday was two days ago. Ash Wednesday is when Christians get crosses of ash put on their foreheads, which makes them look like this:
It is also the beginning of Lent, which is a 40-day period of religious fervor when all the faithful eat fish sandwiches every Friday at McDonald’s.
I wrote a book about Lent. The book is called Janitor of Planet Anilingus, and it looks like this:
The book is 100% about Lent and Catholicism and nothing else. So, in the spirit of Lent, for the next 40 days I will be spreading the Good News of Anilingus! I call it: 40 DAYS OF BIZARRO CATHOLICISM.
Some life-changing things are happening. Here are just a few:
Yes, life-changing t-shirts! Between now and the end of Lent, anyone who buys and reviews Janitor of Planet Anilingus will be entered to win a free t-shirt! There will be 6 of these given away. I am wearing one right now, and it is massaging my nipples. Mmmmmmm. If you would like your own nipple-massaging t-shirt, just buy and review the book, and you’ll be entered to win!
I’m converting to Catholicism! For the duration of Lent, I will be attending mass and taking communion and going to confession. You know, unless I’m really busy or something. I’ll be speaking with someone soon about how to convert. I hope there’s not a lot of paperwork.
This will only be a trial conversion. HOWEVER, if you would like to see my soul saved for good, then you’re in luck! If I sell 93 copies of my book in the next 40 days (2.33 copies per day), then I promise to be Catholic for the next five years!
Trust me! I consider my public announcement of this to be a binding contract!
Free janitorial services for anyone in the Portland, OR area! Er, I mean, anyone who buys and reviews my book! Er, I mean, not anyone, but a few of you (like, maybe just one)! Yep, you can enter to win the chance to have me be your janitor! I’ll come to your place for a few hours (or minutes) and clean the toilet and chat casually with you about all the exotic alien knowledge that I don’t have.
But you should probably ask yourself: Do I really want this guy in my house?
If the answer to that question is “Absolutely!”, then what are you waiting for??? Enter to win! I can’t wait to mop your floor and break your heirlooms.
Private message me for details.
[For more information about any of these life-changing things, or to send me proof of purchase/review (i.e., a photo of you with the book and a link to the review) for entry to win a free t-shirt or janitorial services, write to firstname.lastname@example.org or get in touch any other way you know how.]
Andrew Wayne Adams is the author of Janitor of Planet Anilingus, a bizarro novella available from Eraserhead Press as part of the 2012 New Bizarro Author Series. He was born and raised in rural Ohio. It was boring. He now lives in Oregon and likes almost everything.
Issue seven features the novella “Noah’s Arkopolis” by David W Barbee short fiction by David Agranoff, Molly Tanzer, Andrew Wayne Adams, Shane McKenzie and Dustin Reade, comics by Andrew Goldfarb and SCAR, articles by Constance Ann Fitzgerald, Carlton Mellick III, Kirsten Alene Pierce, Garrett Cook and Bradley Sands, a spotlight on author Jordan Krall, reviews, and more!
Click HERE to order The Magazine of Bizarro Fiction (Issue Seven)!