LOS ANGELES-

And here’s some more good news:

Jonathan Evison, contributor to TheNervousBreakdown.com, has just published his debut novel, All About Lulu, which comes to us from the fine people at Soft Skull Press in New York. The movie rights have sold, the buzz is building, and critics are calling it “a viciously funny and deeply felt portrayal of a blended family and one man’s thwarted longing.”

In short, it’s a great story. And one worth sharing.

A few days ago, I had the pleasure of chatting with Mr. Evison about his recent life and times, and I’ve posted the transcript of our meandering conversation right here at TNB.

Enjoy!

-BL

BL: Tell me about Lulu. Where is your head at right now?

JE: Lulu is my “debut.” (Read: I’ve got three other novels collecting dust under my hip-waders in the basement, and three more that I literally buried–salted the earth, the whole nine yards.) My head is in the clouds right now. I’m overwhelmed by the reception the book has enjoyed so far, thrilled to have sold the film rights, some foreign rights, and the rest of it, and trying to catch my breath before I hit the road. Thank god I’ve got my next novel in the can already, because quite honestly, I think it’d be hard for me to focus at this juncture.

BL: When does the book come out?

JE: It was set for release in July–and as far as print media reviews are concerned, that’s the official “release”–but actually, they released it six weeks early because we had some momentum headed into Book Expo America.

BL: So it’s in stores as we speak.

JE: Yes, and frankly in way more stores than I ever expected.

BL: “Momentum.” Describe.

JE: Well, if nothing else, the film stuff generates a little buzz, and the option got a little coverage in L.A., shortly before BEA. Also, like yourself, I’ve built a pretty sizable online network in the past couple of years, so I was stacking up a decent number of pre-orders and building a lot of anticipation among my “people.”

BL: Do you have any strange birthmarks or tattoos that you might like to share with our readers?

JE: I’m pretty sure I was born with a prehensile tail, and my parents are afraid to tell me. I’ve got this little vampire-bite-looking-thing above my coccyx.

BL: Tell me about the film rights. How did all that go down?

JE: Well, I’m blessed with amazing advocacy–the whole deal took me completely by surprise. I was actually in the Galapagos when it went down, working on my final rewrites. When I got back to Quito, I had an e-mail from my film rep telling me we had an offer.

BL: You were in the Galapagos?

JE: I live pretty large for a guy who lives on fishcakes and cheap wine.

BL: Is the film in pre-production? Have they cast it? Or was it simply an optioning and now you wait and see?

JE: They’re out to directors right now, and I can’t divulge any names, but I’m pretty excited about them.

BL: Jesus, man. Are you having a hard time reigning yourself in? Are you twitching?

JE: I’m just doing the same thing I’ve been doing for twenty years–throwing a whole bunch of shit out there and seeing what sticks to the wall. The only difference is, stuff is really starting to stick.

BL: Tactile.

JE: Yes.

BL: Where are you right now?

JE: I’m in my sweat pants in my living room way the fuck out in the woods on an island, with a beer by my side.

BL: What’s it like living in a remote island hamlet? (Or do you even live in what would qualify as a hamlet?)

JE: It would qualify as island living in a 70’s split-level. I love it out here. The city is only a half hour ferry ride away, and yet I can walk for miles in the woods behind my house.

BL: You bastard. I’m huffing smog in Hollywood.

JE: The basin is actually pretty beautiful if you take away all the development.

BL: Yeah. L.A. would be great if you just got rid of…L.A.

JE: In all honesty, I like L.A. quite a bit. If it were easier to get out of L.A. on a moment’s notice, I could see living there again…at least part-time.

BL: Yeah. I know. I give it shit, but I like it too. I always tell people it’s underrated. But when you live here, and you love the outdoors, it’s impossible not to entertain fantasies of living off the grid. Grass is always greener.

JE: You ever head out to Big Pine or anything?

BL: No, not yet. Unfortunately. I hear it’s great.

JE: Dude, my beagle Dave is going ape shit behind the house right now. I’ll bet he’s got a racoon treed or something.

BL: Do you need to tend to the situation, or does Dave have it under control?

JE: I don’t like to brag, but Dave is a swingin’ a big old shaggy dick. For a beagle, anyway. And no, it’s all under control. Dave can take care of himself.

BL: My wife gets weirded out when dogs have giant penises. Or not necessarily weirded out, per se, but rather grossed out. The whole red rocket thing has a tendency to leave her rattled. She’s thankful that our dog Walter is only moderately well-hung.

JE: It must be the smog. My buddy down there has a big old dog named Henry Higgins and he’s hung like a field mouse.

BL: I’m sure we’re all poisoning ourselves irreparably.

JE: Promise me all this dog dick stuff is gonna make the cut come editing time.

BL: This is our lead. This is pure comic gold.

JE: My terrier, Sparky, is in on the action now–they’re both going ape shit out there!

BL: Does Sparky have a giant penis too?

JE: Mid-range.

BL: Shifting gears. I suppose our readers will want to know about your writing habits. How exactly do you work? How often? What time of day? Et cetera.

JE: I get up between 5 and 6 a.m., five or six days a week, put in maybe three hours, then a couple more, slightly less focused hours (editing usually) in the evening. I really have to stay disciplined to keep my focus, especially on a novel with forty-odd pov’s that cover twelve decades, and one that has Colonel Sanders and Bigfoot in it.

BL: Discipline.

JE: Pretty easy to be disciplined when you love to do a thing. I never had problems getting up early to go to baseball practice, for that matter.

BL: And how did you find an agent?

JE: I’ve had four or five agents over the years, including some luminaries. But the truth is, you really need to find the right agent for you. The way I did it was counter-intuitive: I solicited editors (whom I profiled very specifically, and very thoroughly) unagented, and when I started getting bites, I interviewed seven different agents, all willing to rep me, and picked the one I liked best–the one who really connected with my work, and had a gameplan right from the get-go.

BL: How long did it take to get a sale? Soft Skull Press is publishing, correct?

JE: Well, the first offer came in pretty quickly, maybe six weeks. And yes, Soft Skull is publishing, and I really couldn’t have landed at a better time and a better place. They’ve really been incredible in terms of support; they solicit my opinions on almost everything, and they really make me feel as though I’m partnering with them.

BL: That’s great. And what about plans for a book tour?

JE: Twelve cities and growing. As for publicity, the usual blogosphere and print media route, along with some radio stuff (I used to be a syndicated talk show host). But what’s really great with Soft Skull is that their street cred is gold. So there’s a lot of grassroots opportunities with indie booksellers and the like.

BL: So backtracking a bit: I’m curious. You said you contacted editors unagented. How did that work out? Did you email? Call? How did you approach it? What was their response? The old adage is that most of these editors won’t look at unagented books.

JE: Most things I do are counter-intuitive. Most editors don’t like e-mail solicitations, either (which is how I did it). But it wasn’t a carpet-bombing campaign, that’s the most important thing–I knew exactly who I was soliciting, what titles they’d acquired that were apropos, etc. In the end, the work will always speak for itself.

BL: So proper reconnaissance is key. And then of course the book has to be stellar.

JE: Yes, research is huge. You can’t waste people’s time.

BL: What’s your book about?

JE: It’s about a kid growing up in a family of bodybuilders who falls in love with his new stepsister in the wake of his mother’s death.

BL: How many times have you answered that question?

JE: A hundred? And I still don’t like my answer.

BL: How are Dave and Sparky doing?

JE: Dave is now sawing logs on the couch next to me, and I’m betting Sparky is rooting around under the hot tub for mice. (Terriers!)

BL: It’s good to have a good ratter around.

JE: Yes and no. Neurosis. The fucker won’t come in at night. He just hangs out under the hot tub getting muddy.

BL: Have you tried sedatives?

JE: I’ve tried yelling.

BL: A lot of our readers are writers or aspiring writers. In light of your recent experiences, do you have any advice for them? Any insight?

JE: I have a little speech that goes something like this: Work your ass off until you’re too exhausted and too discouraged to go on–then work twice as hard. And quit saving those damn rejection letters–unless they’ve got some substantive editorial insight, throw the fuckers away! Burn them! Bury them! Whatever. Just release them and concentrate on the word. Don’t lose sight of why you’re putting yourself through all of the labor and suffering and isolation. If you’re doing it to be published–congratulations, you’re a douchebag. If you’re doing it because you have to, because you feel the compulsion to articulate the oftentimes inarticulate, if you’re doing it to inspire yourself and try and make sense out of the senseless, to rush at unseen truths for the sake of understanding, well, then, eventually you’ll break through–if you work hard enough. Eventually could mean fifteen years and two failed marriages and no dental insurance. It could mean driving around town in some broke-dick Datsun, dragging your bumper. It could mean eating a lot of fishcakes. A LOT of fishcakes. But you’ll break through. Also, have some self-respect–I know, I know, it’s cold out there, but seriously, you’ve got to self-identify as a writer. If you’re at party or something and someone asks you: “So, anything published?”…don’t start stammering and explaining and trying to save face. Just tell them to stick their thumb up their ass, and go find a cute girl or a cute guy to flirt with. Write to grow and understand and challenge yourself, not to publish.

BL: Alright, man. Sounds good. Huge congratulations once again on all the wonderful success. Always fun when the good guys win.

JE: Thanks so much.

Tags: authors, books, Interviews, Jonathan Evison, Literature

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 18th, 2008 at 11:26 pm and is filed under Art, Interviews, Literature, News, Transcendence. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.