“The book American Gods wishes it was.” --Despina Durand

Thursday, July 11, 2019


My novel-in-progress Zyx; Or, Bring Me the Brain of Victor Theremin is roaring along as I grab time to work on it as I run the gauntlet of my life. Since I don't always write linearly, I often go back, rewrite, rearrange, so I ended up adding something to the original opening section that I posted last year (I'm leaving it up for you cultural historians out there). This new opening gives more of a clue to the craziness to come:
Victor Theremin woke up in the middle of the night needing to piss.

It pulled him out of another dream where Death came to him as a candy skull-faced Catrina. She had glowing, ectoplasmic breasts on her naked rib-cage, nipples dripping black milk that smelled like fresh-cut peyote. What could lurk between her legs?

© Ernest Hogan 2019

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