What Jesus reads when he's drunk.

 

Ten years in simmering gestation. Well over a year of howling labor pains, far longer than it was supposed to take. Born in San Francisco under a full, neo-pagan moon during a semi-eclipse of the Dog Star alongside a drunken meteor shower whilst Shakti was doing to Shiva that thing with her tongue that drives him absolutely wild.   Made of: wood pulp and ink, sweat and blood, tears and coffee, scotch and sake, spit and come, laughter and bliss. Weight similar to: small ferret/large avocado/your left thigh bone. Smells like: lavender/leather/spurious desire. More than 85 million people have died since I took the first real step toward this thing's creation, back in August of '08. 126 million more were born. People had sex an estimated 71 billion times, globally speaking. I contributed a relatively paltry 217 incidents to this fine number. You do what you can. But it's finally here. It has arrived. I have a wild new book, called "The Daring Spectacle: Adventures in Deviant Journalism." It's shipping right now from my printing house, also pre-orderable via Amazon(though they won't have actual stock for a week or two), available everywhere else very soon. I'd simply love it if you'd grab a copy, or three. Will you? Some details: I call TDSa "mega-compendium." It's a glorious collection of my wildest, weirdest and most popular columns from the Chronicle and SFGate, spanning nearly 10 years but focusing mostly on the more recent stuff, because I prefer to keep it reasonably fresh, my writing has improved tremendously over the years, and some of the really old stuff is downright embarrassing. The book includes more than 90 columns, with commentary. There's a whole bunch of horrifying hate mail, hundreds of photos, all sorts of messy rock 'n' roll design goodness. I'm happy to say, looks and reads like nothing else out there. I'll be doing readings, signings, prayings, hurlings, bake sales, yoga demos, whatever else I can think of, soon, to the point where you will likely be quite sick of hearing about it. I apologize for that in advance. But what can I do. I'm a writer. It's a livelihood. And it's a damn cool book, if I do say so myself. Did I mention it's self-published? That it's a grand and weird experiment, that, by purchasing a copy, you're taking an active stake in my livelihood? And my rent? And my sake budget? Because you are. Full details at daringspectacle.com.   And yes, for the record, it helps me much more if you buy it at full price through AtlasBooksright now, sted of Amazon. But I begrudge no one wishing to order it anywhere, at any time, for any reason whatsoever. In fact, I'd simply love it if you'd ask your fave local bookstore order some stock as well. The ISBN is 978-0-9842997-0-6, if that helps, which is sometimes does. Upcoming newsletters will list out my appearances and readings and such. By the way, if you're a bookstore owner in a largish city and want to host a reading/signing, let me know. We could have much fun. There is my humble plea. I hope you enjoy the book. I hope you love it like sunshine loves chocolate, all sticky and melty and good. Go forth and purchase.

 

http://markmorford.com/