This is how the tale begins. 25.07.13

Beloved Reader,
What a rush it is to feel the strength of inspiration. Whether it’s guiding our pen to the paper in a frantic push, or creating in us, the sense that we can accomplish anything if we believe and try hard enough. What I thought would be an essay length backstory into the nihilism and self deprecating inner monologue of William Control, one that I could perhaps insert into the jacket of a new record, has turned into a full fledged short novel. I started writing and couldn’t stop. Literally. As if I was compelled to tell his story. The people who are close to me, that I have let read it, have told me that I should chase a publisher down and get it put out properly. I’m not sure if I am ready for all of that. Perhaps the experience of being dragged through the mud on a record label has soured me on those sorts of “Art for sale” deals. I think I would just rather market it it to you for now. I know that you will enjoy it a lot better than some fucking asshole headed to Austin on a business trip and needs something throwaway to read on his flight. Or maybe I’m just too selfish. Either way, I wrote it because I figured that you might enjoy it. I suppose that all I need to do is figure out how to get it printed and shipped out. I will do some sort of pre order for it soon. For now, here’s a sample to wet that palette of yours:
“October 27th Present day
Shaving stubble down to skin with a dull razor. This isn’t fun when you’ve been up for three days drinking scotch, huffing ether and consuming putrid amounts of cracker jack blotter acid. I’ve been here before, shivering in the moonlight, many years ago in the dark dream of another lifetime.  The ocean swaying in the background and I think I may be hallucinating. Think. Operative word here is think. The thought police are on to me. Reality is far worse than I can imagine, so I ignore it.  There’s a visible ray of dirty light falling between the wisps of smoke I am exhaling and the space beneath the broken door jam. I am in a crummy hotel room, alone and shipwrecked. Jude is gone and I may as well be floating in a cold lake face down.”
Be on the lookout for updates over the next few weeks. Get ready to discover why William Control is such a fuck up. 
All my love

William Control