Jamie Grefe

Grind, Dear Friend, Grind MONDO FATALES ACTION

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forthcoming

abattoir incident

junk art

angelo pulp

berg's matter

birds rest

bitter fake

brain room

brown poems

caldwell's enemy

california

cannibal priestess

corridor one

corridor three

deerhead puppets

doom horizon

drops shots

drowned girl

dusk lung

early death

electric delirium

evil woman

feigned nights

feral doom

fire scars

flamboozled beak

flower stitches

future wounds

giraffe party

girl four

headcheese

horizon regained

interior sloth

jones's girl

livid men

love clutch

lovecraftian krall

lucy lip

map routes

michigone

muck child

mondo ben

nip down

orange shinjuku

over thirteen

palm desert

pierce's doughnut

pigs gather

polluted interiors

possession notes

rain blood

raw gums

risen stay

scanlon's border

slumped

sour pinch

spring breakers

tanzer's mouth

the end

traumathurge

threaten me

touchability

ugly mouth

unfisting

venom mouth

vinegar cutlery

wet spot

wilson's diegeses

worm holes

your hand

plugplug

peckinpah

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  1. Neil Hamburger on The Mondo Vixen Massacre

    Monday payday! I’m happy to announce that America’s $1 Funnyman NEIL HAMBURGER had this to say about THE MONDO VIXEN MASSACRE:

    “Good Grefe! Jamie has safely documented some seedy, sexual situations involving unsavory sad sacks. More power to him! I would have run away from these people.”

    -Neil Hamburger

    (and don’t forget to purchase your own seedy copy of my book, you chuckle-bone)

  2. Fantastic Earth Destroyer Ultra Plus by: Cameron Pierce and Jim Agpalza (A Review)

    The synopsis of Cameron Pierce and Jim Agpalza’s FANTASTIC EARTH DESTROYER ULTRA PLUS as stated on the Sinister Grin Press website reads, “In the mining town of Itchy Zoo lives a boy with pumpkin flesh. His name is Tetsuo, and he’d like to tell you about the terrible things that brought ruin to his town. How he shot his brother, how the people of Itchy Zoo became puppets, how he fell in love for the first and last time, and how Satan watched it all go down.” And this, dear reader, is the entrance to a most beautiful, layered, melodious, dark and touching tale of Bizarro love and transformation.

    Masterfully illustrated by Jim Agpalza, FEDUP is an adult fairy tale, both precisely told and richly imaginative. If you are unfamiliar with the sometimes mind-boggling intensity of Bizarro fiction, this should serve as a perfect entryway into your adventure of such a multifaceted and surprisingly warm genre. Agpalza’s illustrations are pinpoint companions to the intricacy of Pierce’s literary vision and helpful for those among us who may have trouble visualizing the otherworldly body-mutations and imaginative leaps that Pierce so aptly employs: pumpkin flesh, whale feet, puppet people, or bodies with organs on the outside of their skin.

    And the real beauty of this book is not in its strangeness, which, by the way, is completely organic to the universe Pierce has created, but in the originality of Pierce’s writing. It’s strong, strong enough to attract a wide readership, one that it deserves and only time will tell. As the book is separated between one page of text and one page of illustrations, it is easy for readers to not only follow and see this intricate story, but it also lets the story sink in on a different level, something pure and simple, universal and wet. At times, I felt as if I were reading a beautifully rendered children’s story for adults (and make no mistake, this work is most certainly not for children). At other times, I felt I were swimming in the musical word-verses of a more-fantastical J.A. Tyler or a more sinister Russell Hoban. However, those comparisons fail to give Cameron Pierce the praise he deserves (we shall not compare, only hint). This is a truly original and unique piece of work, fueled by a brother’s pain, by love, by choice and necessity, and by acceptance. It is a work where magic happens and happens again, where families are torn apart and where passions burn deep, burn oceans inside a person.

    In conclusion, if you are curious or interested in Bizarro fiction and would like to own a book that you will be able to finish in one sitting, a book with gorgeous illustrations and a compelling story, then FANTASTIC EARTH DESTROYER ULTRA PLUS is a book that you should certainly consider buying and reading and re-reading. I have a feeling that when I dip into this book again, knowing what I know now from having finished it, that a different story will emerge from its ocean, and it will be even better than the first time around. It will be fantastic.

  3. NBAS Bizarro Grab Bag

    Buy all seven 2013 New Bizarro Author Series titles, write a review for each one, and get a grab-bag bonzanza.

    From author Tiffany Scandal:

    Something NEW: all of this year’s (Eraserhead Press) NBAS authors are contributing random gadgets/trinkets/awesome shit so that we can put together awesome grab bags for the people who review all seven of the NBAS books. You might get wind-up tit toys, a voucher to grab Bix’s junk, a handwritten love letter - who knows. The point: there will be a small gift from each author in the package. Message any one of us (Andy de Fonseca, Amanda Billings, Jamie Grefe, Bix Skahill, Daniel Vlasaty, Dustin Reade, myself) with links to the reviews. Once it’s verified, we send you what might be the best (or worst) care package you’ve ever received in your life.

  4. Reviews for The Mondo Vixen Massacre

    Hello. If you are interested in reviewing my new book, THE MONDO VIXEN MASSACRE, either for an established review site, for your blog, or even for Amazon or Goodreads, please get in touch with me. Let’s talk. I am looking for reviewers/bloggers who want to help spread the word. You will receive a digital copy of the book and I will promote your review/thoughts across social media platforms. 

    Get in touch! If we haven’t spoke, introduce yourself and where you’d like to place the review. I’m looking forward to the interaction. 

    Facebook - Writer Page

  5. Peckinpah: Narrative as the Ember of the Nightmare of Life

     

    Thoughts on D. Harlan Wilson’s Peckinpath: An Ultraviolent Romance entitled (as taken from Wilson’s text) “Narrative as the Ember of Nightmare of Life.

    Thank you for reading.

    J. Grefe - Facebook

  6. Scanned Nightmares

  7. Drum Skin: Fragments on R.A. Harris///All Art is Junk

    I wrote about the experience of reading R.A. Harris’ book, “All Art is Junk.” The review has a lot to do with skin and eggs, but trust me, the book is well worth your time, especially if you are a fan of bizarro and science fiction. Thank you, Rob, for the book. 

  8. Meat Screams: An Attempt at Johannes Gorannson's Haute Surveillance

    My thoughts on Johannes Gorannson’s HAUTE SURVEILLANCE: live at Eyeslit-Crypt.

    Reblogged at Montevidayo

  9. COLONY COLLAPSE: J.A. TYLER (LAZY FASCIST, 2013): IN THESE WOODS …

    image

    [the beginning]

    J.A. Tyler writes rivers of word-circles to wrap his woods around us, cloak words of life to keep us from leaving, to keep remembrance of how brotherly love felt before it left and how it feels to be alone. COLONY COLLAPSE is a love story: you are dying, your brother has suddenly left, you are forced to make sense of life, to find your brother in the woods.

    [the beginning: reimagined]

    I am a deer who is dying. I am dying and it has been written on a note I was handed from my deer-brother: a white sheet of paper, a black dot to mark a wordless message of death. I am searching for my deer-brother in these woods and these woods are endless woods, houses that I build, burn, rebuild. These woods are alive with foxes and bears, magic, dreams, honey, and rivers. I will sleep in these woods, be here in these woods in a house for my brother who left.

    [the second beginning]

    J.A. Tyler writes magic words, linguistic spirals like melting nodes or water. He writes dreams of daughters and death-dreams of love. Tyler writes and the deer says, “I am in search of my deer-brother because I want to tell him what it means to be like this. I want him to see beneath my deer-skin, down to the brother-core, where there are love-words and moments of sky unencumbered by clouds.” These loops of rebuilt houses, of daughters and foxes, are ways to the heart, ways to read the message of the black dot written on the piece of white paper given by the deer-brother before the deer-brother left. Tyler speaks in the voice of one who knows love and one who knows loss.

    [the second beginning: a reimagined end]

    I make each choice to move closer to my brother, to hope for my brother’s return, that when my brother returns he may know me as the deer-brother I want to be known as. May there be love when he returns to this place in the woods where I dream of my deer-brother and daughters, ten daughters that could have been daughters or brothers sitting at tables on feast-days and the distance of a family, how far apart we are. I speak of love. I speak of life. I am a dying deer full of life.

  10. THE BROWN BUNNY: A SHREDDED TEXT OF THANKS

    image

    Bud is in black suit, helmeted along the track. Engine jazz. A tank top and a towel. Load the van.

    Profile closer than passenger, it’s grain. No matter the gas station girl, we are the focal point.

    Gleam splattered bugs on windshield. A mailbox. Wood panels. I’ll kiss you with both hands in five minutes. Hurry to leave. I am a tail light like an empty mailbox or a highway.

    The blurred profile is a sky made of houses and cars. A stop sign and too much green to behold. The green is how I blend into a picket. I have a brown sweater. I’ll wait at the door of a house where I don’t know how long it has been since you’ve been home.

    Daisy…

    image

    Red hair turns orange and bored. Birds chirp. Nothing but a bunny rabbit. I live in LA where it’s small. There are no children there. Everything is brown. I’ve grown, too. The pool has been drained. There are no pools here anymore, no tablecloths where food should be. 

    The road melts black hair in Ohio. Roadside in leather. It’s a tired song, but rain is a car.

    A pet store holds birds and fish and puppies and kitties and bunnies. Bunny life is five years, six until death. I want to forgive you.

    Fried rice and chicken. Wash hands over white tiles. It is summer.

    At the rest stop. White shirt. Your halter top landscape. I’ll walk past you. But when I turn, sit close, your face is a Lilly. Lips stare. The comfort of ghosts. Wait for the sun to turn blonde grass into hair. Frame it by an unending slope to silver.

    image

    I want to be tender. Fields are tender. Write the horizon stretched forever. She’s there in white kisses alone on a motel bed. The sheet is a skin. Be a comb or a gaze driving mountain to salt. I’ve held the edge of a door. I’ll block wind-sun from your watered squallor. Drive it to the edge and slip, curve the night-trucks due west. 

    Gasoline. A strip of fuel for the flat.

    Be a speck once more. An angle to hover. Pure light. Glass spectacle turns grey concrete to the air of this love.

    Nevada in the perpetual spring glitz. These are the ghosts of who you could be the future I dream. Rose is a flower that reminds me of you. Beauty is how we drive, circle, drive. And Rose is a necklace. She is pierced, but you and her are planets apart and I am terrified of being with you.

    image

    Seventy-seven. I’ve grown tired in the way. Your street is a sunset silhouette framed empty. This is where a family used to live. This is where Daisy used to live, lives here no more, not now. I’ll pin hair in a bun, watch sun drip, leave a note for you on the door.  

    Here is a room of white. Sleep is a way to cry. The way grey smokes crack. Sit on the bed. Daisy is made of light. Sit on my lap for a hug. Nothing is spoken from a pipe. This is not Bay Street. There were other boys there. Kiss me and throw up. Nothing you say is true.

    We lock lips to be still. Ours is a shattered lust. I am sick in love. Out of love. The fragment of my face, your face. Tighten hand, the hip, the bare back. A strap. Feet smear to fingers. And a lost child. Yes, there was once a child. On a bed, your blue heels. Death is a choke, Daisy.

    Leave Los Angeles. Leave earth-desert lost. A face made of light.

    I am open, freezing hope.  




  11. DARK MATTER by AASE BERG /// A REVIEW + THE "OVERJOY" OF BERG AT MONTEVIDAYO

    In trying to “review” DARK MATTER by Aase Berg, I fell into a zone described by Johannes Gorannson as “Overjoy.” Of the review itself, he says:

    This review is a very intense, affected reading of the text, describing the “stuff”, the “sheerstuff”, the overjoy stuff, the poetry that affects us intensively.”

    If you are looking for a collection that is gorgeous, haunting, disturbing, and provocative, then Berg’s DARK MATTER should fit nicely up your sleeve. I had a beautiful time writing this review and hope you will appreciate it.

    UPDATE: This piece is mentioned in the HTMLgiant post, "How to be a Critic (pt.5)."

  12. Edmond Caldwell's HUMAN WISHES/ENEMY COMBATANT /// A Review

    I had the pleasure of reading this book by Edmond Caldwell and my thoughts about it can be read at Prick of the Spindle. If you have the chance to dive into it, your time and attention will be well rewarded. 

  13. DIEGESES by D. Harlan Wilson /// A Review or Pigmeat

    D. Harlan Wilson’s DIEGESES destroyed my Saturday evening in the best possible way. I wrote a review about it, but how can one write a review of a book that baffles all of one’s mental models? I suffered. I clawed my teeth out to bring you some words to somehow measure up to Wilson’s brilliance, but I have been known to fall flat and my face is now officially a smear campaign for mothmen. With this in mind, from my small part of the world, I thank you for taking the time to read my review.

  14. Possession (Notes for Zulawski)

    Zulawski’s film POSSESSION has been an obsession of mine for the last few years. About a year ago, enamored by lyric essays (esp. those of Lia Purpura and Brian Oliu), I set out to pay homage to an art experience that has given me so much return on my attention. This lyric essay is that payback. Does it do justice to the film? No. However, does it give us a fresh perspective on the film? Probably, not. What it does do is show my love for this brilliant masterpiece in the only way I can, by being as obscure as possible and hoping for a reader who “gets it.”

  15. Die You Doughnut Bastards by Cameron Pierce (Eraserhead Press, 2012) ///Review

    I am thrilled to review Cameron Pierce’s Die You Doughnut Bastards from Eraserhead Press. Bizarro fiction is a form that I’ve been steadily digesting these last few months and trying to learn more and more about. This collection has quickly made it to the top of my list and you’ll be doing yourself a favor by spending time with master Pierce and his collection of truly notable bizarro fictions. Thank you for reading.