Heckoween in Salem!

Heck in Denver

Hmmm…to stay in my cozy hotel room or brave the rain and cold to give a book reading?

Food for Thought

Wordstock—Portland’s premiere literary event—hits town next weekend, and they’ve created these fun, food-themed videos. Give ‘em a look and I hope to see you next Sunday at Wordstock!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkkwrWJ_aSA&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy4MQsW7HOw&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xWwTOmTV3k&feature=related

Ask Heck…

From: Madison L

oKAY I NEED 2 KNOW WHERE YOU WERE BORN AND IF ANY EVENTS IN YOUR LIFE HAD EFECTED YOU WHEN YOU WROTE THIS

Hi Madison,
I—like many people—was born in Dallas, Texas. It’s OK: it happens to the best of us (and the worst of us, apparently). I was born somewhere between the popularization of fire and Red Vines.

Events that affected me writing Rapacia? Most every event in my life led to the physical writing of the book, if you think about it. But I’m sure you mean the events that affected the plot line, specifically. Growing up, the only thing to really do was to hang out at the mall. Even though we never had any money, it’s what we all did, which is rather pointless since we either were wasting our time around things we didn’t want or torturing ourselves drooling over things we couldn’t afford! So this conundrum probably formed the basis of Mallvana: a place so wonderful and glittering and perfect and awesome that it is either Heaven to some, or Heck to others, depending on your particular circumstances (and credit limit). And, like Marlo, I have—as a teen—run into a few sticky situations in which certain material items found in a store somehow made it to my backpack. But only a couple and—on both occasions—I did an even more daring act of returning them. In fact, sometimes me and my friends would commit acts of reverse shoplifting, where we would smuggle stuff that we didn’t want into a store—weird stuff—and put it on the shelves. And, like the first book, most of the turmoil and horror comes from my experiences in middle school, a place that isn’t full of fun and laughter like elementary school, but without the respect and promise of high school. A place that feels like eternity—and actually is—at least for a little while.

Even More Music

Here is another self-penned Heck track called Meeting with Bea “Elsa” Bubb, about just that. It’s your typical evil ska Klezmer psychedelic stomp track, so popular with “the kids” these days. Recorded live in my living room!

meeting-with-bea-_elsa_-bubb

More Music

OK, I guess when I mentioned posting music in the weeks to come, I really meant in the minutes to come. Like, now. So here is another song that I like to call Damian’s Song (No No No). It’s a bad song about a bad kid whose life turned out badly. It’s also a bad song by a bad guitarist whose solo turned out badly. Maybe I mean bad in the way that used to mean good (but I probably don’t).
damians-song-no-no-no

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music

…which is a terrifying thought. It begs the question “what music would endow land mass with unnatural life?” Is this even morally sound? Not the sound of music, per se, but the ability to animate rocks and dirt? It’s just creepy. Speaking of which, here is one of a series of Heck-based musical numbers I will be posting in the weeks to come. This first song is a little ditty called Christmas at Grizzy Mall which, to the best of my knowledge, is about Christmas at Grizzly Mall. Enjoy, or at least grudgingly tolerate.

grizzly-mall

Happy Heckidays!

The view from my front door…if you get this, please send help!

Just because I wrote a wicked book about eternal torment doesn’t mean I’m not brimming with holiday cheer. In fact, I even wrote a song about this time of year, called Blame It On Christmas. Even though the song is about 15 years old (if it were a person it could get its driver’s permit right about now), it is still strangely appropriate once a year. I give this song to you, all the good/bad people out there who read this blog or mis-Googled something else and find yourself here nonetheless, holidazed and confused.

blame-it-on-christmas