YOUR PHONE'S OFF THE HOOK, BUT YOU'RE NOT: I just conducted an e-mail interview with the mysterious and succint author of THE PHONE RANG, the blog we're all talkin' about. Here it is, for your vicarious enjoyment:
CAMEL: What's your blogging process? Write once in a flurry of creativity? Edit, manicure, primp, and prune? Something else?
TPR: it's a lot like going to the bathroom: i sit down, it all comes out, i never push and then i wipe. for real: i try to write as fast as i can and then i cut it all down to as few words as possible. i spend more time on editing than writing.
CAMEL: What if your wife or your mom or some other intimate ever reads THE PHONE RANG? Do you ever worry about that? Do you have a plan for when/if that happens?
TPR: my closest friends, who know about all of my shit, read it often, which really flatters me. I wouldn't want my wife to read it yet -- that's right, yet. I think eventually I'll show it to her in one form or another. I've always written about the important events in my life, so i don't think this would surprise her as much as you might think.
CAMEL: Why bother writing THE PHONE RANG at all?
TPR: here's a cliche for you, but it's true: ever since i started blogging, it's made me feel alive again. yes, it's cathartic, but more than anything it's reminded me of who i am -- a writer.
CAMEL: Sometimes I think your wife cheating on you was the best thing that ever happened to you? What do you say to that?
TPR: i say that you are one fuckin' smart dude! what it did was it woke me up. a while back, i wrote something like, "is it better to be happy in a fantasy world or in pain in the real world?" it's better to live in the real world and face your shit, whatever it is, and i hope to someday be happy.
CAMEL: People write comments. You never respond. How come?
TPR: the blog does my talking. sometimes a comment will spur an idea and i'll wind up posting something about it. anyway, most of the comments are anonymous.
CAMEL: It seems like most of your best posts have arisen from deep horror, pain, or other negative stuff. Do you ever worry you'll get addicted to the "from pain comes great art" equation and unwittingly create new pain for yourself in order to be able to respond creatively to same? Know what I mean?
TPR: holy shit, i think i just got a brain aneurysm! my style has always been to mix funny with sad. it's the perfect combo of peanut butter and chocolate.
CAMEL: Finish these thoughts:
TPR: i needed someone to take care of me and my wife needed someone to take care of.
TPR: it was time.
TPR: her way of saying fuck-you to the way we lived our lives.
TPR: my way of saying fuck you right back.
TPR: i'm too tall.
TPR: she's too short.
TPR: locked up inside me.
TPR: that she's tougher than she thinks.
TPR: the motherfuckin' shit, yo! and i don't need to program them.
CAMEL: Write a three sentence "plot summary" of your marriage over the next year. Now over the next five years.
TPR: A) She keeps the peace. I accept it.We go to Amsterdam next summer.
TPR: B) Kids go to college. We fuck a lot. Someone gets sick.
CAMEL: You and the Jamaican guy run into each other in a dark alley. What happens?
TPR: we share a spliff.
CAMEL: You are old and wise now. What advice would you give a newly-wed couple?
TPR: never listen to any advice from an old, wise man. And keep your eyes open.
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