Ultimate Vanity Project

Have You Found Her from Milk Products on Vimeo.

Here it is -- the trailer for Have You Fucking Found Her Yet or What. It's my very own Mike Myers, Anna Deveare Smith, Eddie Murphy in Meet The Klumps ultimate vanity project -- I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I liked making it. Big huge thanks to Jon Stuyvesant of Milk Products Media and his crew, makeup and hair artist Michelle Kearns, behind-the-scenes maven Jami Attenberg, and my dearest shmoopy, Bill, who wound up on the cutting room floor -- but not the cutting room floor of my heart!

And a fun little extra -- the behind-the-scenes making-of video:

Making of Have You Found Her from Milk Products on Vimeo.

Readings: Now and Forever

A quick update to alert you to an imminent appearance, and an imminent lack thereof:

Tuesday, May 27, 8pm, suggested donation
Flying Saucer Cafe, 494 Atlantic Ave. between 3rd Ave. & Nevins St, Brooklyn

I'll be reading with Roxana Robinson at the Other Means reading series. All proceeds go to Natural Resources Defense Council.

June & July: Nothing! (Snoopy dance.)

Sunday, August 3, 6pm, free
McNally Robinson bookstore, 52 Prince St. between Lafayette and Mulberry

I'll be doing a free one-hour Memoir Writing class at McNally Robinson, courtesy of Gotham Writers' Workshop.

Wednesday, August 20, 7pm, open to members of the public
LIM College, 12 East 53rd Street

I'll be back at LIM College, where I had so much fun back in March.

Friday, August 14 and Saturday, August 15
American Psychological Association conference, Boston, MA

I'll be signing books and shmoozing shrinks at the APA conference -- look for me at the Random House table on Friday at noon and Saturday at one.

Wednesday, September 17, $150
Sonesta Hotel, Cambridge, MA

I am delighted to be the keynote speaker at this year's Prepare for Winter Dinner to benefit On The Rise, an organization supporting women in crisis.

Strident, long-winded, and appearing this weekend

It's about time for another one of those posts that isn't really about anything except publicizing my book!

Here's a lovely interview with our friend Will McKinley in this week's The Villager. If I sound like I'm on an exceptionally high horse, it's because the interview took place two days after the whole Margaret Fuckface Jones thing, and I was still pissed. I mean, of course I lie; remember that time I got sick and couldn't make it to that book party? I was totally home watching Lost.

And here's a 53-minute interview with Deborah Harper of Psychjourney.com -- big huge spoiler alert! Also, laughing while talking alert!

And finally, back to back readings this Sunday (3pm, Sunny's in Red Hook) and Monday (7pm, Housing Works, with Nick Flynn and Stephen Elliott). In case you Haven't Heard Me read from Have You Found Her. Last few readings before I become a total Salinger and retreat from society entirely! Or something.

Sex positive

My dear friend Jill just sent me this clip, part of the new online video network she launched called CherryTv. I've been eagerly awaiting the launch of this project since it was announced -- a site featuring real women talking honestly about sex for the benefit of other women, and the benefit of humanity in general. Note: This clip is not safe for work, so make sure to don plastic goggles before watching:

I'd also like to welcome a new member to the blogroll: one miss College Call Girl. I met miss Girl a few months ago, and have been enamored of her writing ever since. Is this my tacit endorsement of the sex industry, against which I have railed so oft? Not at all. It's my explicit endorsement of miss Girl.

And both last and least, it's more sexy women talking about sex things!

No it's not. It's me reading a passage from Chapter Three of Have You Drowned Her at Bluestockings last week. Lying memoirist!

I am simultaneously everywhere!

Defying the laws of physics, a la Bugs Bunny; a la that guy in the Matrix who Keanu Reeves had to fight 100 of -- you thought you'd punched the last of me in the face, but no, there's more of me yet!

First there's last night's recap of the reading at Rapture Cafe (which I'll present to you sans picture, because one picture of me reading does not look at all different from every other picture of me reading): Ed Hamilton read a true story about Harry Smith's zombie from his book, Legends of the Chelsea Hotel; I performed the short play A Flaming Asteroid Hits My Ex-Boss in the Nuts, then read a short selection from the new book. DJ Max Klaxxon played the beautiful and groovy tunes, and Amy Gewirtz was yenta-ing all over the room, telling everyone that she'd "just got in a new batch of men in their thirties and forties." Also got to catch a drink with Jami and Lauren before the show; to see Rachel, Virginia, Carolyn, Holly, Nichelle, and Thaddeus; and to meet Maud Newton, of Maud Newton fame. I know, that's a lot of names to drop. Thank god there are, like, twenty of me to pick them back up again.

Then there's the recap of this afternoon's visit to HS 47, The American Sign Language & English Secondary School, where I spent an hour and a half reading, talking, and writing with the students, who shared some of their own short memoir pieces, many of them knockouts. I'm a proud New York City public high school graduate, and few things make me as happy as visiting schools, meeting committed and passionate teachers, and talking with the students about writing. Again, no pictures, but you can probably imagine the face-eating smile.

Meanwhile, here's a lovely interview with me, and a chance to win a free copy of Have You Frowned Her :), on Amy Guth's Big Mouth Indeed Strikes Again; and a short essay I wrote, entitled "Trying on My Dude Suit," about writing from the male perspective, on Kore Press's Persephone Speaks (while you're there, check out last month's entry by Tayari Jones).

Tomorrow: Other people -- what's their deal?

Blurry, hammy, and uh, uh, et cetera

Great show last night at Bluestockings; such a kickass venue, and it was wonderful to be able to share the stage with some of the inspiring young women who have made life after Samantha so rewarding. Here's me, of course, since you might have forgotten what I look like, or what kind of dorkface I make while reading:

The gorgeous crowd at Bluestockings:

My dear, dear friend of 14 years now (!!!), Dana Piccoli, rocking the herse (that's the womynist spelling of "house"):

Poet Kadidia Adula, who I met at the Brooklyn College Women's Center in September:

And writer/columnist Melissa Saunders, who I met while trolling for teenagers on MySpace:

Many thanks to the folks at Bluestockings, to the readers and performers, to Lauren Cerand for facilitating the event, and to all the fine folks in the audience, like Lana, Jennifer Dzuria, Molly Crabapple, Nava Renek, Jill Abrahams of CherryTV.com (launching Wednesday!), and Anne Radford and her girls.

And here's me on the Leonard Lopate show yesterday -- WARNING! Huge spoiler alert! He basically gives away the entire plot of the book, not that I mind -- it's always a relief when I don't have to talk around the twist ending, and can just blab about it with impunity. I did an okay job of avoiding the dreaded laugh-talk, but I, uh, uh, I have some, have some other speech tics that drive me, uh, uh, drive me crazy. Still, it was a wonderful experience and a great honor to be interviewed by LL, and the best part was the voicemail I got from my folks as soon as I walked out of the studio -- "Wonderful. We're so proud of you."

I couldn't ask for a better review.

More of me than even I can handle

Tomorrow at noon, I'm going to be on the Leonard Lopate show on WNYC, New York Public Radio, 93.9 FM. (I'm going to try not to do that thing I caught myself doing on the Publishing Spot video, laughing in the middle of my own sentences. We'll see how su-ha-ha-ha-cessful that is.) Then at 7pm, I'll be at the awesome Bluestockings for the Girlbomb and the Girls show -- free! Join us! Fun-ness! And in the meantime, because nobody should have to wait that long, here's an interview with me on the Urban Muse. Can't...stop...talking...about...self...!

Reading: Way Less Hard than Writing

Okay, so I know I come home from every reading raving about how great it was, and talking about all the awesome people who came out to say hi, and it's redundant, and kind of not even that interesting unless you were there, and you were me.

But look at this crowd at last night's reading-talk-signing at LIM College, the College for the Business of Fashion!

Don't they look gorgeous? Especially with all those yellow books? I agonized over what to wear to Fashion College, and then I somehow wound up in this t-shirt-over-thermal thing, like my short term memory is so degraded that I think it's twelve years ago.

It's the ridiculously big smile that makes it, though. And I was working this smile all night.

It's like, why don't I try being happy for a change? I look like I'm going to eat this girl's face:

And there's more face-eating fun to come! To wit:

Friday, March 21, 7pm, free
Bluestockings Books, 172 Allen Street between Stanton and Rivington, 212-777-6028

Girlbomb and the Girls! Wherein I read, and present two younger writers, Melissa Saunders and Kadida Adula. Music by my dear old (young) friend Dana Piccoli. Books for sale and signing! Feminists for your viewing and flirting-with pleasure! All good things.

Tuesday, March 25, 8pm, free
Rapture Cafe, 200 Avenue A between 12th and 13th Sts., 212-228-1177

Readi...PARTY! Featuring readings by me and Ed Hamilton, author of Legends of the Chelsea Hotel, and dancing music by DJ Maxx Klaxon. Booze, books, and boogie! Yes, I did just say "boogie."

Saturday, March 29, 11am-6pm, $150
Gotham Writer's Workshop

I'm teaching another one-day Memoir Writing seminar -- highly recommended for anyone who wants to get a jump start on that book they know they should be writing. Click here to register.

Wednesday, April 9, 7pm, free
Barnes & Noble Lincoln Center, 66th Street and Broadway

I'm giving a one-hour seminar on Memoir Writing, presented by Gotham Writers' Workshop. If you can't afford the $150, seven-hour version, try the free hour-long one.

Saturday, April 12, 2pm, free w/conference admission
Center for Independent Publishing, 20 West. 44th St. between 5th and 6th Aves.

I'll be on the Memoir Writing panel for the Fourth Annual New York Round Table Writers' Conference.

Sunday, April 13, 7pm, free
Stain Bar, 766 Grand Street, Brooklyn

I'm reading at the Sunday Salon at Stain Bar (an arts salon, not a hair/nails salon).

Sunday, May 4, 3pm, suggested donation $3
Sunny's, 253 Conover between Beard and Reed Streets, Red Hook, Brooklyn, 718-625-8211

I'm reading at Sundays at Sunny's, presented by Gabriel Cohen.

Each reading is different -- each venue and series offers its own amazing vibe and star-studded crowd, and I promise you won't hear the same piece from me twice. But you will see the same goofy smile on my face. And probably the t-shirt-over-thermal look, too. I think it's going to be the hot new thing for '97.

Best Blurry American Erotic Poetry Reading

Here's me at KGB on Monday night, poised for my reading from the Best American Erotic Poems anthology, zipper ready to travel southward or not depending on how well or poorly the poems were doing. But the poems went well -- I read the sestina that was included in the book, The Temp, and a poem I've been reading aloud since 1994, when I found it in a ladies' room bathroom stall at the New Rochelle Metro-North station:

Go Me

Go me
I am the best
bitch in New Rochele
And I do a good jog
at "fuck" as sex
with all the guy
I did with

Because I am fanatical about not running over my alloted time at readings, especially when there are nine other people on the bill, I didn't read this other sestina, which I'm dying to read in public, especially after it was rejected by McSweeney's for being, and I quote, "too much." I present it to you now, for your consideration for the Best American Completely Unerotic; In Fact, Makes You Never Want to Have Sex Again anthology:

How do married people masturbate?

How do married people masturbate?
What do they picture when they come?
They think of the guy at the office, the girl
In the video, her asshole stretched, wincing;
Ex-girlfriends, ex-boyfriends, the ones they still hate.
There’s nothing safe to think about, they fall asleep.

This is how you prepare to go to sleep,
How you wake up, how you run home and masturbate.
Everybody does it! Why can't you? You hate
Me for wanting to fuck when you just want to come –
I turn to stroke you, you turn away, wincing.
I don't care if you think about another girl.

I would want to fuck her too, that girl,
Anybody but me, laying next to you asleep,
A big fat fucking obstacle to your wincing
Nightly ritual: Pop in a tape and masturbate,
Watch that girl get drilled. Two minutes to come.
You mop up, drift off. You burned off some hate.

Not me. I walk around with mine. I hate
What I saw on that tape. I thought, poor girl,
She's in pain and she has to pretend to come.
I lay next to you that night, unable to sleep,
Therefore you were unable to masturbate.
The clock shined mean and bright in the dark. We winced.

Some nights I straddle a pillow, wincing,
Squeezing at thoughts I don't want to think, I hate
The way you come to me when I masturbate.
Face down on my belly, I look like that girl.
I writhe a while. I give up. I go to sleep.
I don't come. It's okay. I don't need to come.

I don't care what you think about when you come,
As long as it's me you're fucking, wincing,
Waiting for you to get off and slump, fall asleep.
You are faithful. I have no right to hate
You, hate myself, hate the hundreds of girls
With their assholes stretched, so you can masturbate.

I know who you are when you masturbate. I come
Into the room, kiss your forehead, your lover girl. Why are you wincing?
Your toes curl in silence. I hate you. I love you too. Let's go to sleep.

...

(Edited to add:

This poem predates Bill, as does The Temp. Just saying.)

Tomorrow: A recap of tonight's wholly amazing reading at LIM College (which was fierce, tranny, tranny, cute tranny, hot mess), more whining and moping, no doubt, and probably some writing advice (I advise "doing it").

I am walking to the reading at KGB tonight

And I am leaving forty five minutes early.

I love New York.