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When BT offered me the opportunity to guest edit an issue of KNOCK,
I jumped at the opportunity. For a decade before I became acquainted
with KNOCK, I was dragging my bumper around town with no dental
insurance, living on fish cakes and PBR, and sending out stories
by the dozen—the overwhelming majority of which boomeranged
back at me as form rejections. Before I met KNOCK, I had in fact
collected nearly three hundred of these form rejections, not to
mention buried (physically buried!) no less than three early novels
(and salted the earth so that nothing would ever grow in that spot
again), all without so much as a single publication.
But then one day I got an e-mail from KNOCK. Your knock has been
answered, the note said! Man, I got hammered that night. I summoned
the ghosts of John Fante and Nathaniel West and Jack London and
Charlie Dickens, and eventually passed out with my shoes on. And
you know what else? I placed two more stories with other journals
later that same week! Within six months I had placed a dozen stories.
Within a year I had multiple offers for my "debut" (ha!)
novel, All About Lulu. Now, three years later, I'm still
dragging my bumper around town, I still don't have dental insurance,
I'm still eating frozen fish cakes, but I'm drinking Newcastle—and
that's close enough to a success story for me. I credit KNOCK for
my changing luck. As a result, it gives me endless satisfaction
to point out that a slew of the stories in this issue are debuts
from hitherto unpublished authors. Pop a Newcastle, boys and girls,
your luck is changing!
So, about The Fiction issue:
I love that there's a guy in Bakersfield writing a novel in Twitter.
Who knew? I love that a Muslim punk wrote a book called Osama
Van Halen. I love that The Stranger's book editor reads
Don Quixote on Monday, and Doc Savage on Tuesday. I love that Largehearted
Boy navigates the narrative landscape to the frenetic pulse of music.
In short, I love it when literature lets its hair down. Enough with
the suede elbow patches, already. It heartens me to feel that the
literary landscape is in flux, even if it spells disaster for corporate
publishing as we know it. Above all, it heartens me to believe that
independent publishing is poised for a renaissance. Most people
think I'm nuts when I say shit like that in the face of the worst
book market ever. But among the many splendors in this special fiction
issue, I would offer as evidence sneak peaks into forthcoming releases
by Soft Skull, Dzanc, and the new Emergency Press. A lot of other
good stuff in this issue to boot, including new fiction from veterans
James P. Othmer, Pasha Malla, Greg Downs, Monica Drake, Keith Dixon,
Marcy Dermansky, Cris Mazza, Kim Chinquee, and others. Oh yeah,
and a conversation with Whiskey Rebels author, David Liss,
who is a prince, and Cris Mazza, who is a huge talent.
You'll find no themes tying this issue together—far from it.
Well, okay, maybe my sloppy copy-editing qualifies as a theme. And,
well, okay, there is an element of shameless nepotism at work here,
as I'm proud to say that I personally know almost every single author
and artist in this issue. But what can I say? I know a lot of talented
people. Otherwise, the fictions herein are all over the map, just
the way I like it. Speaking of maps, how about N.L. Belardes cool
map of the literary landscape? And how about Mark McKnight's beautiful
cover? How about all the lovely photographs and art in this issue?
Take a good look at that masthead and tip your hat to the KNOCK
staff (particularly Stephanie and the boys) who did all the real
work on The Fiction issue, while I got to do the fun stuff-namely,
giving writers the good news that there Knock has been answered.
Enjoy!
JE
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