Coming Fall 2019!!!
Shining Man
Todd Dills

 

ISBN: 978-1-60489-233-8 Trade Paper, $18.95

ISBN: 978-1-60489-234-5, Hardcover, $28.95

 

 

Binding
 

From the Book:

Turner Bascombe was wrong about a lot. But when he told me the goons out there wanted nothing more than for me to stand down, remain a basement dweller, a deep-fryer jockey with an occasionally wielded gift for steeling himself against the oncoming traffic, he had it right.

I am a stupid man!—a citizen of a great imperial land slowly on its retreat back to barbarism from the great progressive nature that allowed it to flourish, after all. I like to stand in traffic! There is sound, wind. People throw things at me, though they once had more felicitous motives when I’d haul around the front of the yellow-and-black Team Bascombe Lumber Ford to get a new tire up on the front right, squat, ass hanging out into pit road as the remainder of the field flew fast within a foot of my back. Peerfoy might hit me square center of one of my goggles with a rind of peeled-off rubber from tire tests, or Tacklebox, the jackman, whack me on my helmet head with his wedge adjuster if he wasn’t using it. Tacklebox, man of the bullhorn septum piercing and Hollywood headbanger attitude, now former jackman turned competitive driver himself, was also known to shoot spitballs from the red straw he was constantly chewing on to combat the lingering lure of long-shunned nicotine. But all that’s birthday cake compared to the bottles, hats, crucifixes, and plethora of profane insults I received for my efforts farther back in the crucible of time—now, too, of course, when standing in traffic nets me nothing more than the stupidity I crave.

My condition says yes: to reading as much as possible, even the drivel; to overworking, occasionally; to drinking too much, most of the time; to abstaining from alcohol when necessary, too; to loafing, day by day just getting by; to being rich, pregnant with industry and purpose.