The novel is done and we have copies!

The Garbageman and the Prostitute
A novel by Zack Wentz
With artwork by K8 Wince
Chiasmus Press
http://www.chiasmuspress.com

It’s finally out. Since you’ve been so patient K8 and I are going to sign and hand-number the first 200 copies. K8 is also going to do a small drawing on the inside cover of each and every one of those 200. First come, first serve, we’re selling these at the normal retail price of $12.00+$3.00 shipping and handling. PLEASE, no more than 2 copies per order. We don’t want anybody hoarding a bunch and then selling them on eBay. You can get plain copies from Chiasmus, Amazon etc. or order them at any bookstore later on. This is just a special limited edition deal for our biggest fans and buddies.

If you’re interested in one of these just send $15.00 money orders made out to Kate Wentz (or $15 well-hidden cash) to:

P.O. Box 620463
San Diego, CA.
92162-0463

(For international orders, please contact us through info@killmetomorrow.com.)

Please print your address very clearly in there and try to include an e-mail or phone number for us in case we get your order and the 200 are already gone. We will get in touch and refund your money!

If you want us to actually sign it directly to you, let us know that as well. Some people like that, some people don’t. Either way is cool with us.

Thank you, everyone.
xoxoxoxo
Zack and K8
Some words about the book:

In some unnamed alter-America, things are getting weird: it’s starting to look as though the president may be manufactured, a fat, bald old man in superhero tights rapes young girls in the ghetto, a celebrity porn star loses her mind and disappears, a serial-killing “werewolf” slaughters scores of prostitutes while the police remain baffled, mysterious mega-corporations disintegrate and vanish without a trace and gangs of street urchins announce the coming of their messiah, who will arrive in the form of a shirtless, knife-wielding, blond boy . . . meanwhile, some spectral, enigmatic force seems to pull all the strings as everyone marches blindly into an almost incomprehensible civil war.

By turns punishingly stark and wildly lyrical, grimly humorous and deadly serious, The Garbageman and the Prostitute is an eerie, genre-bending tour de force, a Menippean satire echoing the envelope-pushing pulp fiction of Philip K. Dick, Cornell Woolrich and Jim Thompson, as well as the seminal literary innovations of Franz Kafka, William Faulkner and Alain Robbe-Grillet. It is a dark, disjointed journey into the meanings of memory, madness and murder . . .

“A sad and creepy work which, like all science fiction, is really about the present. Many moving effects; much consensual and nonconsensual power exchange with alien life. Entertaining and at times haunting.”

--William T. Vollmann

Dirty and alive . . .

--Steve Aylett, author of Slaughtermatic, Lint and The Crime Studio

The Garbageman and the Prostitute is a sensuous riot of language, perverse and outrageous - a wild, gonzo-porn excavation of some wicked, post-futurist landscape rendered with such scatological precision you can practically see the buildings sweat. Zack Wentz is Pynchon, Bukowski, P. K. Dick, and someone else - some huffy, undiscovered heavyweight - all swinging at once, fists knowingly trained on the reader's sense of what's possible in fiction. A word of advice - read the book, take the beating - you'll wear your bruises with pride.

--Matthew Derby, author of Super Flat Times

Zack Wentz is possessed, I’m convinced of this. The wandering souls of Kathy Acker, Richard Brautigan and Cornell Woolrich have, at one time or all at once, invaded Wentz’ body as he wrote this book. I have not been as disturbed by such bloody sickening madness since Richard Grossman’s The Alphabet Man. Lycanthrope lunacy abounds, whores working the corners of Vollmann Street, rock’n’roll from a UFO and Barry Malzberg’s worst wet dream . . . sound like fun? Oh yes, oh yes, indeed—are you going to open these pages, I ask, or are you going to open these pages?

--Michael Hemmingson, editor of What the Fuck: The Avant-Porn Anthology