Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our third installment in our interview series. And today we have a special one for you…
No we do not. Hold on.
“Look, we have an issue with the interview. But it is the same guy I talked to the last two times. Yes. M Ennenbach. Nachos. (un)intelligible. Always has an attitude. No honey, you pay the bills. fine. I’ll talk to him again. He has the personality of a closed door. No. He is sitting right here. He is staring at me. I’ve gotta go.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, and all points in between…
Hi. Look I can just go.
No. Please. The powers that be are interested.
The powers that be?
Unimportant. So. Still writing, huh?
Still a passive aggressive douche canoe?
Did you look at my questions?
Okay then. I believe you. It says here, you are still a passive aggressive douche canoe. Is that true?
The email said this time would be better. You’d be less of an asshole and actually talk about my writing.
That was clearly a lie written by the people above my head.
So. A Western. Original.
A Splatter Western.
It is a western horror. The series is called Splatter Western. The brain child of my good friend and writing partner, Patrick C Harrison the third.
How does a western horror sound pretentious?
The third. He sounds pretentious.
He is not. Not a lot. Maybe a little. He is an excellent writer. And co-owner of Death’s Head Press.
Meh. So your new “book”
Why are you doing air quotes when you say my book?
I don’t know what you mean. Anyway. Tinder on the Chocolate Trail. Sounds like erotica. Is that what you mean by splatter? If so, gross. I assume it is cowboys swiping right and making love by the campfire. Not my type of book.
Hunger. Hunger on the Chisholm Trail. It is about a cattle drive.
That some kind of code?
Code for what?
Every time. You don’t read the advance copy I give you. You purposefully fuck up the title. Then you make me seem like an asshole because you are the worst interviewer ever.
Pretending this is Tinder and swiping left to get this over with. You are aware that cell phones didn’t exist back then, right? There was no Tinder.
Well aware. The name of it is not…
Unless they use telegraphs.
My name is M. Space. Looking for a burly man. Space. To take my cattle drive to the trainyard. Space. Wink. Space. That’s code for cowboy sex. Space. Around the campfire. Space.
It is about a cattle drive. 3000 head of cattle being taken from Dallas to Abilene Kansas so they can be sent out East and sold at market.
Boring. It isn’t that terrible poetry, is it?
No. It is a novel. My first.
So, you think you will get better at it?
I have gotten better.
It must have been horrendous.
No. A quick write. Been sitting on this for a year now.
I mean your previous writing.
I am trying to be polite here. This is a big deal for me. I wrote a huge cast for this. And slowly kill them off across the novel.
Hunger Hunger on the Clit’s Cold Snail, what is the conceit? They know they are trapped in a novel by a hack writer and seek to find an eraser and end their lives?
You are literally the worst person I have ever met.
Now you are ignoring me?
I assumed you were having an inner dialogue out loud. Seemed rude to interrupt.
Ever sell any copies of Nachos?
Notches. A few. Christine Morgan, an icon, just reviewed it.
Who did she lose a bet too? The poor woman, forced to read that swill. I bet it nearly killed her to sacrifice her integrity like that.
It did almost kill her. She was caught off guard by a line in Infatuation and nearly choked on Valentine’s candy.
Autonomous euthanasia. I get it. I’m nearly there myself. And the poetry? Still pretending that is art?
I have a second collection coming out in August. (un)fettered from Potter’s Grove Press.
That sounds like it will be huge!
Are you being serious? The publisher says it is even better than (un)poetic.
Is there a monster in Tinder? The cover is beautiful. Like wrapping a turd up in the Mona Lisa.
Hunger. Yes there is a monster. A Wendigo. And the cover is done by Justin T Coons. He painted it. I could not be happier with his art.
The art is incredible. Wasted. But incredible.
I just googled it. Wendy’s didn’t exist in 1872. How can that poor ginger girl be the big bad monster? What does she do, throw square burgers like ninja stars? Drown them in frosty quicksand?
Wendigo. A creature of intense hunger.
I get it. The fries dipped in the frosty. That stoned late night run for a spicy chicken. Only to find out is like a century too soon. Horrifying.
I hate you.
Fair enough. Tinder on the Chocolate Trail, an erotic tale of cowboys seeking love and cheeseburgers is available now. Any closing words before we never do this again?
It is Hunger on the Chisholm Trail. It is an old school pulp western set in 1872. Book 2 in the Splatter Western series by Death’s Head Press. Book 1, The Magpie Coffin by Wile E Young is available now.
Magpie Coffin is incredible. That Wile E is a fantastic author. You should try and be more like him. Guy has a future. And doesn’t waste time with shitty poetry.
Chris Miller has the next entry coming soon. Dust. In fact, his main character makes a cameo in Hunger.
Do you have nudes of these people?
Compromising audio of them spitting racial hatred?
No. They are great people.
Yet, they talk to you. Mind blowing.
Still hate you.
Mutual. Buy Tinder on the Chocolate Trail. Maybe if M Ennenbach gets enough sales, he will stop bothering me. Grab Nachos as well. And that poetry book, (ill)egible.
You are still the worst interviewer ever.
Coming from you, that’s a compliment.