I pretty much only speak to one adult human being a day, and two on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The adults are my wife and my mother-in-law. Other than that, I have a two-year-old, a moody eleven-year-old, two little old grumpy dogs, and a seven-year-old half feral cat who we inherited when we bought the house.
I don’t mind any of it one damn bit.
I’m not going to say I’m the type of person who says they don’t need people. We all know it’s a bullshit statement. Ask any ex-con what the worst thing about prison is, and they’re going to tell you solitary confinement. No, I like people just fine. I love spending time with friends and family. Dinner parties, Christmas get-togethers, art openings, I dig all of that.
But I have a breaking point.
Four hours seems to be my limit, and then after that, I need to go and hide out in my office for a few hours, music playing, a couple of books open, and the laptop powered up. Solitude suits me, but I’m pretty sure I would go a little bugshit if I was never around any people at all. Wandering down the street violently babbling to myself about satellites bugshit.
It would be full of ugly, that’s for damn sure.
I always like seeing old writing pals succeed. It’s a hard business we’re in, most days it feels like all you do is work (Which ain’t all that bad), but then all that hard work pays off. One of my oldest writing buddies is Frank Bill, and in the decade when we first introduced ourselves electronically, Frank’s career has taken off. And today, Frank’s second novel, The Savage, is out in the world. It’s an interesting take on the Post-Apocalypse genre and is as much a ballsy thriller as it is a novel of ideas (But, I’ll have the review up tomorrow, so you can read it then),
Anyway, here’s the set up for The Savage:
In the raucous and action-packed follow-up to Donnybrook, mayhem is still the order of the day-only more so
Frank Bill’s America has always been stark and violent. In his new novel, he takes things one step further: the dollar has failed; the grid is wiped out.
Van Dorn is eighteen and running solo, dodging the bloodthirsty hordes and militias that have emerged since the country went haywire. His dead father’s voice rings in his head as Van Dorn sets his sights not just on survival but also on an old-fashioned sense of justice.
Meanwhile, a leader has risen among the gangs-and around him swirls the cast of brawlers from Donnybrook, with their own brutal sense of right and wrong, of loyalty and justice through strength.
So, this is not the distant post-apocalyptic future-this is tomorrow, in a world Bill has already introduced us to. Now he raises the stakes and turns his shotgun prose on our addiction to technology, the values and skills we’ve lost in the process, and what happens when the last systems of morality and society collapse.
The Savage presents a bone-chilling vision of America where power is the only currency and nothing guarantees survival. And it presents Bill at his most ambitious, most eloquent, most powerful.