2019 will start for me with scouting trips to NYC and Chicago - I’ll be sourcing possible RIVER ST. venues, looking for spaces that rhyme with that piece’s energy, darkness, and flow.
And my newest novel is almost - almost! - finished, I’ll have a title to share very soon. It’s Ari and Max, it’s love and chaos, it’s Dark Factory, it’s the way we try to define what’s really real. Here’s a taste of that world:
And then the night truly begins, the Factory becomes the factory it is, making and remaking that night’s life in its own image and design: and despite his best or worst intentions Max finds himself enmeshed, fly on the wall, fly in honey caught and caught off-guard by the constant shift and self-perpetuating level of detail: not just the tailored cornucopia of available experiences, that hallmark menu of X—all the suggested things he could do, will of course refuse to do—but the overwhelming peripheral realities, the maze of it, the haze of it, the fog of scents like floating flowers, the sudden mirrored sheen of a door, so the self seems to walk into itself, the hundreds of wax candles whose flickering flames are indistinguishable from true fire except they burn nothing, exist as nothing but light that itself does not truly exist, with their curling smoke that never touches his lungs—and even more so by the fact that everyone in this warehouse, show, environment, all these human moving parts, seem to have invested themselves so completely in Dark Factory that every dance step, every splash of booze, every flashed ass and fake fuck not only continually redefines reality, it simply shrugs off the definition altogether.