Time is running out for Monastrell Publishing. The next two days determines whether Intracoastal, its project for the next 6 months, goes ahead. Here's what Gene Gregorits, the author and the man behind Monastrell has to say (which is quite a lot)
"Only time can write a song that's really really real
The most a man can do is say the way its playing feels
And know he only knows as much as time to him reveals"
- Richard Hell
Dear contributors...fiends, all....
We are now in the final 72 hours for INTRA-COASTAL. I put 100% into this campaign, although it was difficult at first to take crowd-funding seriously. I'm sure I made a few hundred mistakes along the way; I never allowed the experience or the concept to transform me into that Awful Thing which befalls so many: the used car salesman. I suppose that if I had, the campaign would have stood a better chance. And just as certainly, I'd have acquired supporters who were dreadfully ill-suited as readers for this type of licentious material. I instead remained up front, true to my ideals and true to my word: this is not an easygoing book, and it's not meant for an easygoing audience.
Bottom line: $1438 raised out of a $7K goal. $1438 is more money than anyone I know currently has, and I take that amount very, very seriously. When the campaign ends, as soon the hold is lifted, that sum goes directly to Lana, my landlady. If some strange patron magically materializes and throws in the remaining $5.5K, again, the entire sum goes directly to Lana. This campaign has been about time, and time only. And me, being me, I'll take the weeks and run with them, if there are weeks. And if there are months, well: I came up with a figure of 24 weeks, 6 months, to produce a substantial piece of art that resists categorization and flaunts a disposition that is not for the weak of heart, baring truths hard enough to chip a tooth on. And in the end, trust me, I will emerge dirtier than the rest. The role of the writer, Celine always said, was to cover himself in filth. This I done.
And I don't mind doing that, if that's what it takes to find some poetry and share it along the way. During the last 4 weeks, an astounding 24 of you guys chipped in because you believe in my abilities, and you share in my distaste for the current trends in American literature.
And I know that none of you guys are rich, which makes me all the more driven to shape Intra-Coastal as something which has no precedent, and as something potentially dangerous. That number, 24, seems far greater to me than 1438. It's a profound degree of affirmation that no writer of either humility or conviction would ever be so foolish as to take for granted. Quite the contrary, it is in fact ALL I currently possess: a loyal readership. I can't afford to lose you!
TIME: only three days, 72 hours, remaining. I will go as far down this dark road as you allow me, and then, I'll go a good piece further.
>>5305 This guy thinks he is the living fusion of Artaud and Bukowski or something. Citation of actual talent still needed but it's a hell of an image he has. There's film still on youtube of when he cut his ear off while laughing.
Dog Days seems to get pretty great reviews everywhere and I do love his anti-irony stance and disgust for the likes of Dave Eggers - I also think Dave Eggers symbolises a lot that's wrong with modern literature.
Previews on Amazon suggest this person can indeed put a sentence together effectively.
I am halfway through reading Fishhook by Gene Gregoritis. It really is an absolutely extraordinary piece of semi-autobiography. Not only am I bursting into laughter every other page, every now and again he hits a note of Celine-style transcendental blackness.
He is very obviously Bukowski influenced but this is a new form of writing. It seems absurd that this stuff is self-published, his books deserve to be much more widely available.
It goes without saying that he is a pretty objectionable human being as anyone who has read the background material about him will glean.
