“It’s like the Ultimate Fighting Championship, except with a bunch of stoned queer writers instead of athletes.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m gonna be stone-cold sober. Da’ better to whip your ass with, little boy.”
Overheard in the locker room
So. People. We’re doing this thing on Friday, March 1, 2019 at 7 pm in the Treehouse at cSpace.
There will be whips and stockings and Naked Girls and perhaps whipping cream. I’ve heard rumours.
Ok, I’m actually spreading the rumours. 😉
But wait. I’m telling this story all wrong.
First, I need you to mark your calendars:
Friday, March 1, 7 to 9 pm
If you’ve got other plans, cancel them. Nothing compares to this.
And now I need you to put this address into your Google Maps or GPS:
1721 29 Ave SW
If you’re out of town, I’m so sorry… frankly, you still have time to move or travel.
You: WTF is this, Jane?
Jane: I’m getting there! You’re so impatient. Edging, foreplay, kitten. Tis all part of the art…
The Alexandra Writers’ Centre Society is celebrating the inauguration of its 2019 Writer in Residence, Bradley Somers, by… putting us in a cage? Or something? I’m a little fuzzy about the details, except that we’re playing by UFC rules which I think means there are no rules, so I’m totally going to win.
Anyway, here’s the program:
2019 Writer in Residence, Bradley Somer vs 2018 Writer in Residence, Sarah L. Johnson
PJ Vernon vs M. Jane Colette
MC – Ali Bryan
REFEREE – Robin van Eck
And now I’d like you to meet my competition:
Hailing from gin-soaked Florence, South Carolina and the only American town to have had an atomic bomb dropped on it (seriously, look it up) is psychological suspense Author, PJ Vernon. Literary Journal and Book Riot compare his debut When You Find Me to Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects. Publishers Weekly calls it “eerie and dark”, Kirkus calls it a “suffocating, velvet nightmare”, Booklist says he’s “a name to watch in the thriller genre” and PJ says, “Everyone please go buy my book so I can be rich now, you guys.”
So PJ Vernon is a very, very fine writer (nice sparse tight prose) and he and I will be opening up the event, but seriously, how is this even my competition? I mean, I’m gonna wipe the floor with him. Because, here’s me:
M Jane Colette lived in six countries on three continents before she was ten, which explains every single one of her intimacy and attachment issues and is the reason she creates her perfect relationships in fiction while sabotaging real life ones with award-winning creativity. She writes porn—er, social realist erotica—that dismantles the patriarchy one filthy word orgasm at a time.
Like, I’m an actual martial artist. And if they think I’m just going to sit there in the cage and read for my seven minutes? I’m going to destroy that little boy. ;P
Anyway, once they clean up the blood, it will be time for the outgoing and incoming writers in residence to face-off. The outgoing writer in residence is the Amazonian ultramarathoner Sarah L. Johnson:
Hailing from small town Mormon Alberta, at a height of 3.5 fraggles and weighing in at 400 doozers on an Arby’s day, this genre-defying contender has published two books, a couple dozen short stories, and doesn’t keep track of rejections because she’s fragile and also can’t count that high. Her work has been described as “plotless and confusing,” and “an indictable offence”. When not scribbling blasphemy, or taking exercise bulimia to the next level, she’s shaking her ass and jingling bells as the literary events manager at Owl’s Nest Books. Our 2018 Writer in Residence and the reason we now have an ethics committee and cameras in the bathroom, Sarah “Plausible Deniability” Johnson.
The in-coming writer-in-residence is Bradley Somer, and I don’t actually know him in person so I won’t talk smack about him, except that I think it’s a foregone conclusion the night’s gonna end with girl on girl action, but it’s nice that he’s showing up, right? Give him a round of applause for trying:
In the blue corner, at 6’4” and weighing in at 225lbs, hailing from just up the street, the hyperlocal combatant Bradley Somer. Brad dabbles in literary fiction with a touch of the urban fantastic. His writing has been called “totally mediocre” and it has been said that his books “have too many words”. While he may not know what a fight song is, he sure can take a beating. His short stories have been rejected over one hundred and fifty times, with a featherweight 33 being accepted for publication by the dirtiest of dirty literary journals, produced in dirty back alley dumpsters by whiskey sodden editors. He fairs no better as a novelist, with a whopping six completed manuscripts and only two publications. With a record of 6 and 2, one would wonder why he doesn’t stay on the mat.
It’s an all-queer cast, btw. They didn’t plan it that way… it just happened. Ha. I guess the reactionaries are right to fear us–we are taking over. ;P
So… Do you remember the deets?
Friday, March 1, 7 to 9 pm
1721 29 Ave SW
Ok, kittens, see you Friday and now, I’ve gotta run, because I need to buy PJ Vernon a new collar and see if the Naked Girls want electric tape for their nipples or whether they’ll be wearing tata tops. Um, wait, I’ve said too much…
PS Apparently, it’s NOT an 18+ event, but, fuck, they invited me, so what did they expect? Don’t bring your children.