jynxed's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i need that like i need teeth in my asshole "That dog was fuckin' nuts. So, On Thursday, I got the opportunity to meet one of my favorite authors and hear him read one of his short stories. Does the name Chuck Palahniuk ring a bell? Fight Club? The event was held at Borders in El Cajon. I don't really understand why they chose El Cajon, except maybe that helped keep the crowd down. As it was, over four hundred people showed up to get their precious autograph. Good business for Borders too, as the only way to get an autograph was to have a copy of Chuck's new book, Stranger than Fiction, most of which were bought that night. I showed up around 6:40, twenty minutes before the reading. Big mistake. The chairs were all taken and the floor surrounding the table was a wriggling mass of bodies. I headed to the front counter and bought Stanger than Fiction, and went ahead and grabbed Fight Club, too. The book is supposed to be as good as, if not better than the movie. I've only read Lullaby and Invisible Monsters, but both were excellent, particularly Lullaby. My only complaint about Palahniuk's work is that since he is fond of using first-person narrative, all of his protagonists sound alike. This isn't a HUGE issue for me, but it was a bit annoying, especially in Invisible Monsters, where the narrator is a deformed beauty queen and not Edward Norton. Weird. Anyway, they were passing out numbers for the signing, so I grudgingly took #327. I was in for a long night, but hey, it's Chuck Palahniuk, so who cares? I sat on the floor about fifteen feet behind the table. Sure, I'd get nothing but a great view of Chuck's ass, but at least I'd be able to see him without standing up a hundred feet or more away. This, as it turns out, was a wise move indeed. Not only did I get up nice and close, particularly during the post-reading Q&A where Chuck did a good job at addressing all us pathetic late-arrivers sitting behind him, but it spared me being a potential victim of Palahniuk's prose. A victim? Yes, my friends...a victim. See, shortly before introducing Chuck, a lady came over the PA and announced that Chuck would begin his reading soon. She informed us all that his work was NOT appropriate for children and requested that anyone who might find the work objectionable should leave. Yes...a store was requesting that their patrons get the hell out of dodge. Believe it, or not. I don't even want to know how many complaints Borders got as a result of sensitive people not hearing or blatantly ignoring the warning. Chuck came out, and there was a huge round of applause. I looked around the room, and the first thing I thought was "Gee, I am so not cool enough for this crowd." Black was the color of choice for these fans. Most of them were probably 15-25 years old. Young. Disgruntled. Full of angst. If Chuck would have announced he was starting a real life Project Mayhem, these kids would have no doubt jumped at the chance. And here I was, dressed in Levi's shorts and an Old Navy t-shirt. I was everything they hate about the world. There were a few of us so-called "normal" folks hiding around the room, but we did our best to not call attention to ourselves. Seriously though, most of the crowd were just normal, everyday young people. Receptive, mostly intelligent, and well-behaved. Chuck thanked the crowd and again announced that the story he was about to read was definitely not for children. He suggested that children go grab some JK Rowling and leave quickly. "This is no Harry Potter." And then he began...He told us he was finishing up a book of short stories to be released next year, the kind of stuff Edgar Allen Poe would write about if he were alive today. The kind of story that disgusts you and that you dread reading again...but can't wait to pick it up and gross yourself out. Sounds good. "This is a story called Guts." He also warned everybody that if they should feel queasy or anything, to please just sit down. Now, in person, Chuck Palahniuk looks nothing like the photo from the author profiles on his older books. You may have seen it--he looks like a buff, kick-ass bodybuilder. More recent photos are closer, but honestly, I wouldn't have been able to pick him out of the crowd. And his voice is nothing like I expected either, although I have listened to some of the commentary track from my Fight Club DVD. He's a comfortable speaker, and seems to really enjoy reading his work to a crowd. And so he read. It's an excellent story. If you happen to have a copy of the March 2004 issue of Playboy, there are, contrary to popular belief, articles and stories inside, and you can read Guts for yourself. Corn and peanuts. Ugh. How did it rate on the child-protection scale? Well, considering the story deals with various graphic mishaps incurred during masturbation... you make the call. Hilarious, though. Funny, yet thoroughly disgusting as well. To say more would ruin the surprises. Suffice it to say that so-called "Pearl Diving" can be hazardous to your health. Extremely hazardous. When Chuck finished the story, he asked if anybody had passed out. We had SIX people faint during the story. A record. Chuck's public reading of Guts is up to nearly 60 pass-outs so far. Granted, it was warm in the El Cajon Borders, but even sitting down, I found myself a little light-headed. When you read the story, you'll understand. Speaking of which, there is a bootleg MP3 of Chuck Palahniuk reading Guts in New York (I think). I've got it, but it's a 12 MB file that I'm not going to make available. If you want to know where to find it, though, drop me a line. I've also got a text version, so if you want it, you know where to find me. After the reading, Chuck did a Q&A session. Most of the questions were lame ("Can you give us a movie update?" and "What's the most unusual place you've manually hand-stimulated yourself?"), but it was interesting to hear Chuck's responses. You kind of put popular writers up on a pedestal, and it's nice to see them as human beings. The cool thing about the Q&A was that Chuck Palahniuk handed stuff out to the people who asked questions, the ulterior motive of which was "when the prizes are gone, the Q&A is over." He handed out crowns and tiaras and giant plastic flowers, but best of all, a lucky few got severed-leg dog toys. Yes! I wish I wasn't so shy... Bummer. One question posed to Chuck was "What really gets you?" Seeing as he writes some pretty outrageous stuff, like Guts, that was a pretty valid question. Chuck's response was cruelty to animals. He said that animals define us as human beings and we should respect them. Cool guy. Soon after the Q&A began, this long-haired blonde freaky-looking boy sat in front of me. He wore glasses and a leather jacket, and looked all the world like a loser. He was carrying a big piece of bright pink poster-board. We'll dub him Loserboy(tm). Incorrectly assuming that his vantage point (directly in front of me, no less...rude shitstick) wasn't going to work for his plans, he got up after a few minutes and wandered away. I thought he was gone for good, but I was mistaken. Halfway through the Q&A, Chuck was answering a question and there in the back of the mob was Loserboy(tm), holding his pink sign. Written on it, in handwriting even a six-year-old wouldn't envy, was something like "DID YOU KNOW IN 1987(?) CHUCK P. PARTICIPATED IN THE RAPE OF A 12 YR. OLD GIRL." Chuck Palahniuk paused in his cheerful answering to read the sign. He said something like "Nineteen eighty...what? No. Sorry." He didn't outright deny it, but my impression was that he was just blowing Loserboy(tm) off. Besides, being the curious sort I am, I searched the 'net and there's nothing about Chuck Palahniuk and a rape anywhere to be found. At least back when I looked... Anyway...the crowd kind of booed Loserboy(tm) back into obscurity and Chuck finished up his Q&A and started signing books around eight. At 10:15, they called numbers 300-350 and I made my way to the line. As I was about three people away from having my two books autographed, there was some commotion behind the bookshelves, and something white tumbled to the feet of the young woman two people ahead of me. We all looked down with a "What the..." look on our faces, and then an alarm started going off. It was a dead, white mouse. "What was that all about?" Chuck asked looking around. Apparently there were a bunch of other dead mice scattered nearby. Then Chuck answered his own question, something like "It was that sick kid with the sign..." I read that Loserboy(tm) even tried to get Chuck Palahniuk to sign a book he didn't even write! From the account of the guy who was having his book signed when it happened, Loserboy(tm) or one of his friends opened a poster tube and flung the dead mice from it, then ran out the emergency exit in the back. Of course, this put Chuck in a nasty funk, particularly after just admitting that he hates animal cruelty, and he wasn't really having fun signing the autographs any more...just in time for mine. Ah well. I was the last person to have their books stamped with goofy things like "PRISON LIBRARY COPY" and little references to his books. He stopped personalizing the autographs around #150, so I was nowhere near getting a "cool" autograph. Still, it was a great evening, and I recommend attending a reading by your favorite author. It's a lot of fun to hear how they interpret their stories, the inflections they use and so forth. Listening to Guts was almost like hearing a stand-up comic describe the most horrible pool accident ever dreamed up. "Imaging taking a four-hundred pound shit, and you see how this might turn you inside out." What was interesting to me though, and I may be misinterpreting Palahniuk's comments, was a little something that I think a lot of people didn't get. They may be wrong, I may be wrong. I'm not sure. It's regarding the quote I introduced this tale with. "That dog was fuckin' nuts." See, Chuck talked about the elements he felt were necessary for a short story. I don't remember his exact words, but it was something like "A part that makes you laugh, a part that disgusts you, and a part that makes you cry." There may have been something else in there too, and I'm not sure about the disgust part. I wish I had a better memory. Anyway, Chuck pointed out the parts of the story that illustrated these points, and the line he quoted as the part that makes you cry was "That dog was fuckin' nuts," which, ironically, was the line that got the biggest laugh. Chuck even talked about that section of the story being almost too hard for him to read. I had noticed that he was shaking and this seemed a little out of character for him. So how could the funniest line of the story be so cry-worthy? Now, I don't want to give the story away, but if you look at the line from the narrator's perspective--that your dad is saying this about you, not the dog, and suddenly it's not so funny any more. In fact, evidence of this can be found in the next line, which is something like "Even through my bedroom window upstairs, I could hear him tell the guy: We couldn't leave that damn dog alone for a minute." Anyway, there's a message board about the evening, if you're interested; just to prove that I'm not making the mouse-shit up. :) A couple people posted some pictures of the reading, so if you want to see what Chuck looks like now, there's you chance. You have to realize that me showing up at this signing was a MAJOR achievement for me. See, across town there was a screening of Garden State that I could have gone to. I guess the director/star was there too. Now, if his co-star would have been there, I would have SERIOUSLY been torn... One of my favorite authors...or Natalie Portman. God, that would have been a tough choice. As it was, I really want to see Garden State... But I made the right choice, crazy Loserboy(tm) mouse incident and all... 1:43 p.m. - July 27, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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