Every writer dreams of putting pen to paper as the stars align--when every word, every phrase, every idea, flows in perfect pitch, the prose singing effortlessly. As a slave of the rewrite, I have never experienced this Nirvana, but when I envision such a writing session, I watch myself frantically scrawling out Jesus' Son.
In this collection of short stories we follow Fuckhead through a dark valley of alcohol, drugs, domestic abuse, and senseless death, from which there is no escape--but the tragedy and despair serves to illuminate his brief glimpses of heaven. These visions are breathtaking and unforgettable.
