Adam Gnade

Joey Carr: “Maggie broke up with Tyler before I met him but from the pictures I’ve seen of her at Tyler’s parents’ house—a family vacation, Tyler’s graduation, prom, homecoming—she’s like someone from the distant past, more serious than people today. Intense but warm. Sensual in an Old World way. She could be some angry Greek teenager holed up in the hills with a carbine rifle while the Nazis take her village—just waiting for her chance to sneak down under the cover of night and set things straight. Wow. My best friend’s ex-girlfriend? I’m not like that.” [Joey, lighting a cigarette and taking a long, ponderous drag, staring out to sea, the swirl of blackness and fog and night.] “But fuck, I can see her, and there she is up in the hills above the Mediterranean, sitting with her narrow back against a pine tree, tiny and stick-thin in a man’s workclothes and unlaced boots, rifle in hand, pulling back the bolt—ka-CHIK—eyes closed, listening to the sound of tanks rolling into her village, a voice barking orders in German, a shot rings out—clear, hard, echoing across the expanse of valley and sky. And she opens her big stormy eyes and grips her rifle stock, waiting, waiting.” (Excerpt from the novella Hey Hey Lonesome by Adam Gnade)

Fight the critics. Fight the bank. Fight your creditors. Fight 2012. Fight dismissiveness. Fight the publishers. Fight the agents. Fight the money people. Fight fake friends. Fight the bookstores. Fight the scene. Fight the social networkers, the schmoozers, the phonies. Fight the lawyers. Fight the insurance companies. Fight the record labels. Fight sleep. Fight the audience. Fight the neighbors. Fight the weather. Fight the urge (or don’t). Fight short attention spans. Fight the postal service. Fight the heat. Fight the drought. Fight time. Fight the recession. Fight the unkind. Fight mosquitoes. Fight the internet. Fight the past. Fight disinterest. Fight sickness. Fight boredom. Fight genetics. Fight preconceptions. Fight the public’s perception of you. Fight Amazon.com Fight the airlines. Fight the factory farms. Fight fear. Fight AT&T. Fight self-doubt. Fight the media. Fight the candidates. Fight the “end of print.” Fight not living up to your expectations. Fight bad credit. Fight your car. Fight the car mechanics. Fight the bosses. Fight the cowards. Fight irony. Fight laziness. Fight sarcasm. Fight exhaustion. Fight living in the shadow of your heroes. Fight your poverty. Fight your hunger (or don’t). Fight the liberals, the conservatives, the democrats, the republicans, the anarchists, the socialists, the Randites, the Tea Partyists, the communists, the neocons, the plutocrats, the Dixiecrats, the fascists, etc. Fight “young adult” literature. Fight the Huns, the Philistines, the Hoard, the Pack. Fight the Great Dumbing Down. Fight hopelessness. Fight rot. Fight printing costs. Fight traffic. Fight bias. Fight agenda. Fight death. Fight the law. Fight yourself. (And so on.)

Dear friends,

I’m putting together a new zine. This one’s a split with myself and a surprise collaborator (to be announced) on what it’s like to leave the city and go back to the land in the modern age. I don’t want to give too much away but it deals with the big decisions and hard times you go through when you decide to head on out to the country and start a DIY farm without any money (or knowing anything about countrylife or agriculture). It’s about an attempt to make a life for yourself as removed from modern bullshit as you can get.

Now, I’m not the Kickstarter type but if you were ever planning on buying my records or books now would be a great time. The writing is done but I’ve got to raise about $800 to get this zine on the streets, so all your money will be going to a good cause.

The online store with my records and books is here: 

http://www.adamgnade.bigcartel.com/

I’d suggest the novel Hymn California or the record Run Hide Retreat Surrender if you’re looking for a place to start but if you’re as strapped as most people I know you can buy a zine Bart Schaneman and I did for a dollar and even that’ll be appreciated. All of it helps.

Best,

-Adam Gnade 

You spend enough hours on something and you cease to see it for what it is. That’s natural; that’s how it works but you have to keep on it like a goddamn badger or you’ll never finish. Sometimes I wrestle so hard with this book it looks like mush by the end of the day and it seems like it’ll always look like mush and I feel like tossing in the towel. Then the next day I look at it and it’s alive and I know my characters again and I start in on it and all is good (and then that night it’s mush again. And so on). 

My deadline for this fucker is June 5th and once I have the book quote unquote done I’m going to stay away from writing and research and editing for as long as I possibly can. I’m going to work with the livestock and the crops here on the farm and I’m going to take my new gun to the Parma Woods and shoot and I’m going to go for drives and make meals and listen to Youthmovies and Foals and get drunk. 

Summer’s coming and that means lake swimming and I’m going to do a lot of that. I’m also going to put up my punching bag and start boxing again. Things like that.

Here’s the problem: This book is the first installment of a trilogy. At some point I’m going to need to put away the diversions and man up and get back in the saddle and do the next two.

The perverse part is I WANT to do it. I want to sweat the plot structure and I want to put myself through the fucking ringer and I want to see these books in PRINT. I believe in this stuff and that’s what keeps me moving and ruins my life and destroys my eyes and makes me crazy and furious and blind-stupid. 

The work doesn’t end and I don’t want it to. 

That’s the problem with bookwriting. 

When I woke up I left my aunt’s house early and walked down to the beach to get breakfast at the pier. Like always I ordered a can of Dr. Pepper, an avocado sandwich, and a side of sourdough toast. On the walls, gaudy airbrushed surfboards as decoration. Dim lights. Ceiling fans moving slow. Sun in blocks of pure light at the windows. The TV above the bar was on but the volume was off—a sitcom, subtitled. And now an hour later my food is gone and I’m slumped over my plate watching the sports recap—the Chargers, a crowd shot—men, adults, fans, a bunch of dads and uncles screaming at the camera, giving wild thumbs-up, highfiving, doing bodybuilder poses, wrestler poses, beating on bare chests like apes, their bodies painted blue and yellow. “Can I get the check?” I say this sleepwalking, dreaming without the dream, moving through the day like a shit floating in water. And then it’s on my table with a red and white peppermint and a clear plastic BiC pen to sign. On the check the waitress has written “THNX xoxo RUBY,” a smiley face drawn under the words with insane-looking hair scribbled around it. I pay up and walk out into the sun and stand on the cement, squinting up at the ceiling of sky and space around me, heat rising off the blacktop, wrinkling the air as it moves from the earth. My name is Joey Carr and I used to be sure of my potential but now I’m having a harder and harder time tricking myself. (Excerpt from the novella Hey Hey Lonesome by Adam Gnade.)

Just got back from the frontier, the PRAIRIE. The last little bit of life was huge spiders, heat and wind, good friends, fire in the gravel, horses, guns, open sky, women in prairie dress, long grass moving like the sea, long drives, the stockade, cheap wine, stories, and INDIAN COUNTRY. Anyone who tells you the Midwest is boring (or ugly) hasn’t been where I’ve been.

Thirteen days left to finish this book. Pulling some late nights and early mornings. Room’s a wreck. Need to shave. Books open all over the floor, marked to certain pages and held down with mason jars and pocketknives. Quotes and source material scrawled on note pages everywhere (“must be exhaustive, encyclopedic, crowded and panoramic,” “Maggie’s bed,” “the smell of pears,” “ideas versus feelings,” etc). Thirteen days.

ADAM GNADE & THE HOT EARTH ALL-STARS “YOU GOT MEAN” FROM AMERICANS (UNRELEASED EP) Here’s one of the new songs we recorded in Georgia a couple weeks ago. It’s from my brand-new band’s six-song EP, AMERICANS, and we’re going to get the whole damn thing out to you as soon as we possibly can. Right now we’re looking for a good label, so if you’re that label let us know (duke@adamgnade.com) and we’ll send you the unmastered record. (Also, the EP is a companion piece to the new book I’m finishing in a couple weeks out here on the farm [shared plot and characters] so if you’re the kind of label that can print a 130,000 word novel alongside a 30 minute “talking songs” record let’s talk.) We’re planning to tour the HELL out of this one so maybe we’ll see you on the road this fall. Hope you guys enjoy.

Got the patches in the merch store! My first-ever patches. Fake campaign stuff. Set of three for three bucks. Ships anywhere in the world. Sew ‘em on your hoody. Online store’s right here.

1) Here’s what’s in the ground at the Hard 50 Farm: sweet corn, Boston pickling cucumber, straight neck squash, black beauty zucchini squash, Detroit dark red beets, salad rose radishes, red cored chantnay carrots, Russian black krim heirloom tomatoes (beautiful coal black seeds), husky cherry red tomatoes, pink brandywine tomatoes, jet star tomatoes, lavender, sweet red bell pepper, sweet yellow bell pepper, sweet orange bell pepper, hot banana pepper, (upper plot) rosemary, strawberries, Maggie’s Farm leaks, prison garlic, spinach, potatoes, pear (tree), sweet white onions, and red onions. Oh, and we’ve got about an acre that’s ready to hay.

2) Book progress rolls on. Ten days left until I’m done with this beast. Topping out at 130,000 words give or take. Reading Dos Passos and a biography of Hearst in the downtime. Lot of new typing. Lot of added dialogue. Moving fast. Up next, the agent search and publishing …

3) Got the mixes back from Damon of the AMERICANS EP. Going to start shopping this new record around on Monday. Wish us luck.

-Adam

Dear friends,
Sometimes doing art for a living is like being punched in the face over and over again while you’re trying your best to walk a straight line. Sometimes it’s like waking up after a long night of nightmares and realizing the dreams weren’t real and that the day you have ahead is nothing but sweet life and freedom. The trick is to remember the latter exists when the former is riding you into the dirt. The trick is to remember the upside when you’re down.
Your friend,
-Adam Gnade

Here’s a shortie three-minute documentary Allister Reynolds made about the making of our new EP, AMERICANS. I just now got the mixed tracks back from Damon and it’s sounding solid. Hopefully we’ll have it (and its companion novel) out soon. (You can hear a full track right here.) Still not sure what label it’ll be on but if you want that label to be yours get in touch (duke@adamgnade.com).

1) There’s a difference between thinking it over and over-thinking it.

2) No matter how beat-up you feel, you’re at your best when you’re fighting.

3) You will be scattered and off balance when you’re not doing what your heart tells you to do.

4) If you’re feeling marginalized, frustrated, or fucked over, take comfort, you’re in good company. I got your back and so do a lot of good people you don’t know yet. Some people get through life clean but the rest of us get pulled through the fucking ringer on a daily basis. You’re not alone.

5) Some things won’t feel better in the morning but most will. Sometimes the best option is to say, “Fuck those cocksuckers” and sleep on it. When you wake up: hit back.

-Adam Gnade

Dear friends,

The important thing is to fight the urge to toss in the towel. Half the time it’ll feel like a shit-business and (some of) the people you’ll meet will depress the fuck out of you. Keep in mind why you’re doing this. It’s always a meaner time when the thing you do is the measure of who you are. You’ll always take the hard days harder. Just remember it won’t always be this frustrating, soul-crushing, or slow. Your work will pay off if you believe enough and fight fair and put in the hours to get better. Don’t give up.

Your friend,

-Adam Gnade

Kurt Morris over at Razorcake gave a really nice review to the split zine Bart Schaneman and I did. Check it out here: http://www.razorcake.org/punk-zine-reviews/they-will-stand-on-you-and-spit-1-8—x-5—photocopied—pgs