A Very Inspiring Thing the Late Adam Yauch did for me

When I was a sophomore in college, I wrote and self-published a novel, one copy at a time. I printed all my rejection letters from publishers on the back cover. I used a hot-glue gun to bind each copy by hand on the floor of my crappy apartment. It should be apparent that I had no idea what I was doing. I sat in my living room with my burned fingers and a small stack of my books and thought, “Now what?”

I mailed a copy to Adam Yauch – MCA of the Beastie Boys – because I loved the Beastie Boys. At that time in my life, I probably thought about them as much as I thought about anything. I’d listened to Licensed to Ill while hanging off the monkey bars with my friends on our very last day of elementary school. I’d been waiting in line at the Sound Shop at Somerset Mall three years later when Paul’s Boutique was released, and I was waiting in the same spot three years after that for Check Your Head.

To me the Beastie Boys might as well have invented music and what it meant to have fun with it. I went vegetarian after hearing Adam Yauch talk about it. I named my cat MCA.

I didn’t expect any response when I sent Adam Yauch my book, but a few weeks later a postcard arrived at my Mom’s house, which was the address I’d printed on my copyright page. “It’s a little drawing of a guy holding your book,” Mom told me over the phone. “The signature looks like it says ‘Yuck.’”

“YAUCH!?”

Yes, at a time when I had no idea how to get my writing to people and I felt like no one would ever read my stuff, Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys took a moment to draw a little cartoon of himself reading my book and smiling. That simple nod of recognition is still one of my favorite things writing has brought me. It could not have come at a better time or from someone whose acknowledgment would have meant more to me.

Book Talk with Fran

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Withered and Absorbent

Just saw a book described as "wise and absorbing." Isn't that an old Bounty paper towels slogan?

I Review Jason Jordan’s The Dying Horse in the manner of South Jersey Magazine Restaurant Reviews

A tradition in Italian households, Jason Jordan’s The Dying Horse is both exactly what it sounds like and so very much more. Jordan depicts a vinegar-kissed world of smoky, velvety depth. His pliant and springlike prose is perfumed yet homey in this delicate novella that will have you backing out of your New Year’s resolutions.

Jordan’s nutty, underdressed characters shine due to a combination of good local sourcing and such liberal seasoning that the gentle bitterness of these nuts soon fades away to leave the book happier and more soulful than it has any right to be. What can be a vaguely depressing, often pasty form (the novella) is here drizzled with aggressive and beautiful effort. Appealingly taut and nicely erotic, The Dying Horse is a familiar piece of meat in a barely perceptible syrup.

For $11, this modestly-portioned book is one of the most aromatic salmons in South Jersey.

Calling all beige-colored novels

Mr. Joe Meno wrote this blurb for my new book:

"The Nostalgia Echo is the best book you will read this year, or any year: the exact antidote to all those tired, humorless, beige-colored novels of recent memory, the writing here pops with both a dazzling intelligence and a devastating depth of character. Mr. Hess carries on in the great tradition of Vonnegut, D. Barthelme, and every other genius literary madman."

Then, the book's cover ended up looking like this:



Yep, beige, sort of.

Other beige-colored novels, I challenge you to a beige-colored throwdown. Beige-colored novels, step up to get beat down.