My book, The Underground Dogs, won first place in the Dystopian category in The BookFest awards! Yay!
I was so surprised! I’m so happy! Yay!
If you’d like to check the book out, visit my Amazon page.
Hi everybody! I’m happy to announce that the moment is here: The Novel That Will Get Me Published is published! It is available in e-book and paperback form via Amazon, or by special order from a local bookstore. (The amazon pages for the two versions aren’t linked yet; they will be in a few days.)
Here are the links:
I’m very excited and very proud of myself. This was a long journey and I’m so happy to have completed this. I am so thankful to M for helping me and supporting me throughout the whole journey, and to my friends and family for helping edit and give feedback. I would not be here if it wasn’t for any of them!
I have an author page up at Amazon, too. You can check it out here: http://amazon.com/author/jcdkerwin. I know it’s not much yet,but it’s my humble beginning. I will be adding much more. I already plan to publish a short story collection later this fall!
So, check out my new book and let me know what you think!
**Disclaimer: Contains R-Rated and otherwise controversial content**
Back Door Theology in a Whiskey Glass
I caught snowflakes on my tongue
once upon a time in July,
when the air cut like razorblades
and eggs fried on my brain.
I saw Jesus in a snowflake
when I was seventeen
and Jerry Garcia in a peanut
They both said the universe
isn’t all that large
and Andromeda is not that far
At twenty-five I’m still thinking
about Jesus crackers
and pot leaves
fighting over the world.
I think God is a heroin addict
and It’s laughing at Man
running around with palm leaves,
and back-seat-driving Pope-mobiles.
(I think the Pope and the Queen
go fucking on the weekends
because the Devil makes them
do it. After all,
It’s got candy that’s enticing
to all us lollipop kids.)
I can’t seem to drink enough
to become an alcoholic,
but I’m still too inebriated
for AA to accept me.
I’m chasing horses out of bottles
lining shelves of “just another pub”
in some weird corner of my world,
and I’m not sure if this time
God will take a moment
to join me.
Lord fucking knows
I could use an omnipotent psychiatrist
to sort through the mental shit
I’ve shoved in dingy closets
I don’t believe in angels
but if I did, I’d tell you
one has Irish eyes that glow blue
when they’re laughing, and
they saved my fucked up soul
from monsters in my head.
(Those monsters would make me
their marionette if I let them, but
when my Indigo turns Blue
they stay away and I don’t have to pray
to Jesus Garcia.)
And maybe if there’s Heaven,
it’s right here on Earth,
trapped between the Nowhereland
and Almost There that we’ve created.
They’re our excuses for Paradise,
but maybe Eden’s not man-made;
maybe you can’t find it in peanuts
or grape juice at the altar.
(I don’t care to know ‘cause I know
it’d just frighten me and
I’ve got enough things to be afraid of
looking in a mirror.)
I’m content to walk beside
the same jackass human beings,
because maybe someday
it will all make sense to me…
And I think Jerry might be smilin’,
snortin’ coke with Jesus,
while I’m down here laughin’,
‘cause I found an angel and Paradise
I’m subtle. Like a heart attack.
When I’m on a mission,
I’m as invisible as
an elephant on the subway.
I’m riding high, like
I’m snuffing cocaine and
soaring with wings made—
I fall faster than my stocks.
I almost wish I hadn’t wished
for the super dose of power
to turn me into Superinfiniteman.
Wish I hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid and
pumped my thighs full of incrediroids
like all the other ’bots who can’t get
through the day without a pick-me-up.
I thought I wasn’t like them.
Thought I didn’t have to be.
Thought I could finish a dream without
kicking off my socks
and falling out of bed.
But I’m just another mannequin
with a pacemaker.