So this will be a long one to kinda catch up.  But I’ll try to be concise.  And fail at it.  Oh well.

My life is truly insane.  And the insanity has become comfortable.  And maybe my life – via this blog – sounds incredibly exciting.   Sometimes I wouldn’t trade my existence for anything…but there are many, many difficult times too.  And recently my father sent me an email that simply said this:

Maya:

A short follow up. Creativity can be stressful but it certainly beats the comfort of boredom.

Dad

My dad is a really wise man.

In  “I can call star power” news:  my article about Anna Evans came out in Brown Bunny Magazine (a very cool Italian publication) and Hot Danish Artist Thomas Warming took the photos:

Crazy Bitches by Maya Sloan

and yes, this is the picture they opened with.  They are Italian, after all.

And literally the night before, I open Time Out magazine and guess who is featured in the nightclub section:

oh Kayvon and Anna...you guys are really, really odd.

Now a pinch-yourself moment.  Lucinda Williams is one of my favorite musicians of all time, and not just because her brilliant poet father taught at University of Arkansas while I was there…because she is a poet too. And she’s a songwriter who’s been a soundtrack to a lot of good/bad/emotional times in my life.  And I finally got to see her play live!  And I somehow got me and Hot Danish Artist Thomas Warming VIP passes (don’t ask don’t tell)!  And yeah, it was one of the best nights of my life.

The crowd:

And then we got to go backstage…her husband/manager introduced us (I know that sounds cheesy – husband/manager - but he wasn’t cheesy at all.  An incredibly cool guy).  And I could hardly talk to her, I was so starstruck.  But I mentioned her dad and started babbling and she just threw her arms around me in a huge embrace.  I  mean, what an amazing woman.

And Thomas asked her to take a picture with me….he knew I wanted one but would never ask myself.  And I said something like, “I feel so weird posing for pictures.  And I swear to god she said right in my ear, “Why, you’re so pretty.”  Then snap.  Which is why I have this crazy expression on my face:

like the average woman, I only feel "pretty" intermittently. but having Lucinda say that to me...well, that was cool.

So that was one of those wonderful moments.  And there was also a super-scary one.  Emily (of Emo Goes Postal) got really sick.  She ended up being in the hospital for several days.  And it was scary as hell…and also kind of mind-blowing, how brave she was and how all her friends and family came together to support her.  And even more…how even in that situation, in a truly ghetto hospital on morphine and in a ton of pain…Emily maintained her humor and warmth and incredibly huge glowing spirit…and I feel so very, very lucky to have her as a best friend.

Emo hearts Oprah

we decorated her room

And yes, she approved the following shot to be on my blog.  In fact, she liked the idea.  And that is another reason I love that crazy ass bitch:

we have all become oddly fond of this bag and have considered the decorating options: bedazzling? Sequins? At the same time, this bag will be gone soon and I know that will be a huge relief. But damn, that girl can work a hospital runway.

Believe me, that hospital will never be the same.  They were so sorry to see her go.  And the medical students would find their way to her room just to hang out.  It was kinda a big old sick party, with lots of morphine and Shasta and hot doctors feeling the need to “check up” on Emily on a frequent basis.  And it was a salon too, because in her doped out state she let me do her makeup and hair and nails.

She’s feel a ton better by the way.  And if anything, I think this reminds all of us how much she means to us…and hopefully reminds Emily how much she is loved.

And more….

Jefferson is close with this fucking awesome Italian artist….and she has this crazy famous piece…sexy mopeds.  I mean, these mopeds are gettin’ it on.

This is her, Daniela Dido.

And she invited us to this very exclusive party:

And the President of Italy was there.  And I’ve never seen so much real Prada in my life or better dressed women.  And I was wearing my H&M discount rack dress and we were totally out place and it didn’t matter…we had a blast. And the whole thing was surreal and great.  And there was lots of free cheese.

And we took a paparazzi shot…long after the paparrazi was gone, of course, since that was the only time we could get near the press station:

And a kickass gift bag.  And of course we closed the place down.

All in all, it has been a wild couple of weeks

a.  I met some of my literary heroes.

b.   I made the NY Society page.

c.  Both these things happened while I was dressed as a clown.

And that, my friends, is my life right there…meeting my heroes and making the society page in a clown suit.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Happenings for Febuary 8th

visit his website here

He did this amazing reading, and afterwards I waited to get him to sign my book.  And I don’t know what hit me…maybe I was intimidated by his confidence and literary success…but I felt the need to tell him I didn’t like the end of his book. His  great book, by the way, very fresh and completely fearless.

What can I say?  I’m a brat.

And his response…well, he asked me why I felt that way, explained his intentions in ending the book so suddenly (which made sense, actually, though I’m still on the fence) and was incredibly nice.  Feeling awful for being such an obviously jealous bitch ( and one lacking in enough published endings to actually be critiqued by bratty strangers at actual readings), I told him I was a an writer, my book was going out for consideration, etc…and he gave me his email and was really nice and encouraging and actually sent my book to his editor some point soon after (where it was rejected…but damn, what a cool for him to do…and okay in retrospect, ’cause my editor is a rockstar!)

We kept up via infrequent emails for over two years now…he was encouraging of my work and me, and so excited when my book got picked up…and he gave me honest, heartfelt advice about publishing, the literary industry and writing.  And it blew my mind, this renowned author spending time on me!

Charles Bock...a man who is nice to random bratty chicks

And this was not done in a lascivious way (gotta say it, ’cause successful male writers have that stereotype about them)…Charles is a dedicated family man, very much in love with his wife, and was just being nice because – and this is the part that shocked me – there are successful writers out there who are NICE. They are good people.

I mean, not to go off on a tangent here…but we all know writers who have had a lot of success, but they kinda treated other people like shit on the way up…and yeah, they may be good writers, but to me the success is kinda empty and hollow when you’ve been compensating for deep-seated insecurity with ego and cruelty towards others (and guess what?  All writers have deep-seated insecurity…no need to compensate for anything.  Just own it.  I do.)

In Hemingway's case it wasn't his fault...his mother dressed him like a little girl. That would mess anyone up.

And here is someone like Charles who, come to find out, has been encouraging and kind and supportive of other writers for a long, long time (now I know this firsthand from his numerous friends now)…and that opened my eyes and taught me something.  Like I’ve said before…and I mean it…no book award or literary success or wads of money will keep you warm at night or make you feel truly loved.

I got Hot Danish Artist Thomas Warming to do that for me!

So when I emailed Charles last, and found out his wife Diana had leukemia…well, I was upset for him. They have a young child, too.  I told him I was there to help in any way I could, but didn’t hear back, which I understood.  Turns out the leukemia went into remission.  Unfortunately, it came back, and months later I got an invite to this:

Fellow Writers To Help Charles Bock with ‘Most Literary Rent Party Ever’

And the truth is, I couldn’t afford a ticket.  They were expensive (as they should be, this was meant to raise money for Diana)…  But I wanted to be there and help.  So I wrote Leigh Newman, one of his friends and the event coordinator (and a very cool person and   author), and offered my services as a clown to entertain the kids.

Leigh at the Literary Rent Party

And she said there wouldn’t be any kids…but they’d still love a clown.  And lord knows I’ve made enough balloons for adults in my time (balloons in a bar = free drinks all night)

And there you go.  The rest is history.

See that guy next to me...that's Sam. Lipysite.

BTW, I haven’t put on a clown suit or done balloon animals in years…and here’s the thing…it was like riding a bike!

This was a truly amazing experience.

Crazy things that happened:

I spent half an hour listening to the awesome band rehearse in the dressing room, having no idea the cute guy playing guitar and singing was one of my favorite writers OF ALL TIME Rick Moody, I mean, I adored him before I even knew I wanted to be a writer myself…

I even went up and made him a balloon – the first of the night – not knowing who the hell he was.

That's Rick Moody in the hat

Of course, when I found out later, Thomas brought him over to meet me ’cause I was starstruck…and Thomas knew I’d never get the nerve to talk to him again (even though he’d seen me put on clown tights and greasepaint in the dressing room )…and so I geeked out on him and he was so cool and took a picture with me…and he made the society pages holding my balloon animal!

I still didn't know who he was

from New York Social Diary...I think that was supposed to be a dog. I'm outta practice.

I made another balloon for rockstar writer Jim Shepard – and discussed the phallic nature of balloon animals in general – without knowing who he was.  Then he did a kickass reading and tore the place apart.  His book is about Iraq vets and has scenes in Ft. Sill (that’s in Oklahoma)…so I worked up the nerve to tell him about my book…which he said he’d like to read…and I just happened to have (Thomas made me bring it, I swear!  I’m so thankful for my deijile boy!)

I made  balloon animal for another dude ALSO not knowing who he was…and he insulted my balloon skills!  And so I told him the least he could do was hold the balloon and give me some advertising…and he said he’d put it up as decoration at the Literary Advice Booth:

…and so I said…what an idiot…oh, you’re a writer?  And he was like, I’m Sam Lipsyte.

And it seems, looking back, I made balloons for lots of bigtime writers (I mean, the place was packed with them) without knowing who they were…

Here I’m making a balloon for this precious little baby…turns out this is Josh Ferris’s kid…love the video because the kid looks completely nonplussed until the last second…wait for it, wait for it…yeah, this is absolutely the child of a writer!

And later I got advice from Amy Hempel (a true rockstar writer) at the Literary Advice Booth…and the crazy thing was she kept letting me ask questions even after 20 minutes…she answered with honesty, then would say, “Let me have another.”

And the stuff she said to me in that conversation – about being a woman and a writer, about making money as a writer, about owning your writing…well, that was stuff I will take to heart and never, ever forget.  Getting that kind of advice from someone as gifted as her…well, what a once in a lifetime experience.

and I actually made her laugh

And I met someone else I have always wanted to meet.  Mary Gaitskill.

It was a surreal, fantastic night…and the best part was that they raised a TON of money for Charles’s wife…and when I went up to him dressed as a clown, and told him I was Maya…his face went from shock to a huge smile.  ”High Before Homeroom!” he said.  And then I got to tell him exactly how much his kindness to me – some unpublished, kinda annoying chick who bugged him after a reading in LA – had meant to me.  And how much his kindness and warmth means to so many people…and how obvious that was if you looked around the room.

And I think that meant something to him…I hope it did, because I meant it.

Thomas took video all night for his wife to see in the hospital and be reminded how much she is adored and loved.

And here is what I learned from that night….writers can be good people too.  There wasn’t a bit of “who are you/what can you do for me/who has more cred/who is more famous?” vibe in there that night…these people were here to support Charles and Diana and their child, and the energy was warm and embracing of everyone.  And seeing that hardcore bigtime writers can come together like that for someone…well, that gave me hope.

But I already knew that.  Here are a list of my friends – truly gifted writers – and people I adore for just being who they are:  Stephen Sanders, Matthew Goldberg, Kodi Scheer, Randa Tantawi, Katie Arnoldi, Zack Karabashliev, Sara Karabashliev, the late E. Lynn Harris, who is always watching out for me…wow, and those are just a few of so many. I’m really, really lucky.

If you want to donate to help Charles’s wife, you can do so here.  He’s such a good guy and the family could use the help.

Enough of all that.  Let me just leave with one last deeply meaningful and deeply literary thought:

Anyway…I went to see James Franco read from his new book.  And this is how big an idiot I am…I actually thought I’d get in if I came half an hour before the 8 pm reading.  What I didn’t count on was the rabid teenage girls in low-cut shirts and full prom makeup who’d been there since 8 a.m. I couldn’t even get a bracelet to enter the speaking engagement area…I’d have to stand outside a rope, behind a crowd of very tall people, and just luxuriate in the sound of Franco’s voice.  But, with the urging of my friend Margaret, I got in anyway.  In the PRESS AREA. WITH my “Press Photographer” Thomas and my “son” Adriann (actually the most amazing kid ever visiting from Denmark…I pulled him in later while loudly remarking  “The nanny just dropped him off!  It is so hard to find good help!”

As if Adriann needs a nanny...seriously, he's more mature than ME (not saying much, I guess)

Long story short, Franco came in, took press photos, and then read for AT LEAST an hour.  I don’t blame him for that…when he asked the crowd if he should finish the story, of course the teenage girls shrieked “YES!  WE LOVE YOU!”  So he read… in fact, he read so long there wasn’t time for him to individually sign the books, which was really upsetting to some of the girls there…but what can you do?  The whole thing was crazy and surreal.

Anyway, candid shots from my Hot Danish “press photographer” Thomas Warming:

There were a couple of, ahem, unique members of the audience. Like this guy with a teddy bear.

Franco signs books

And here is a short video of Franco reading…I love the shot of Adriann looking really bored and annoyed by the whole thing.

The Munch Machine Float

Yesterday I got to live out one of those secret fantasies I never knew I actually had…well, until I experienced it!  I got to be on a float in the Halloween parade!

And it was one of those moments (it lasted hours, actually) when I just kept repeating, “Is this really happening?” And it was happening, and it was freaking awesome, and I will never forget the experience as long as I live.

I love Halloween…and New York is the best place to celebrate such a whacked-out holiday. I mean, the whole thing is surreal…New Yorkers love any excuse to go crazy…and free license to dress up as their subconscious fantasy and roam the streets unrestrained…well, to be honest, that isn’t much different than an average day in the City…except, in this case, EVERYONE is doing it and not just a few freaks you pretend not to notice on the subway for fear you are just like them somewhere deep inside.

see those freaks on the right side of the photo? I know those guys.

And of all the parades in the world, the Halloween Parade in New York is one of the best…not to mention the biggest Halloween parade in the US. And yes, it is utter and complete fabulous chaos. And all those years of watching it from the sidelines (which I loved), I’d never in a million years thought I’d be PART of the whole thing.

Total Halloween Chaos

So gifted Danish DJ Peter Munch, who was kind enough to play my book release party (and did an improvisational F— The Police as the party being busted by Brooklyn’s finest) has a yearly float…people pay to be on it, and rightfully so. But luckily, Thomas helped Peter with some concept design and a kickass poster, and Peter invited us on for the ride…and we had NO IDEA what was in store.

Check out Peter’s stuff:

Art by Thomas Warming

Peter’s float was fifth, moved up from last year because he rocks so hard. And even though I’m not a huge techno fan…well, Peter is so damn good he makes you LOVE techno despite yourself…he can read a crowd, play just what they need…his choices are funny, surprising, dark…and his mixes are utterly appropriate and unexpected at the same time…in other words, I’m a huge fan. And he’s just cool shit, as is his lovely wife Liat.

So the theme was Superheroes, but I was too late…I’d already gotten my Uhura costume (as a shout-out to my geek-fabulous boyfriend, Hot Danish Artist Thomas Warming…and I was the retro Uhura, not the cheesy updated version sans beehive)…and Thomas was gonna be Kirk, and of course Amazon f-cked up his costume delivery, so we spent the morning running around the city to find him something to wear, which involved braving the desperate crowd at the Halloween store ON Halloween (utterly horrifying), getting the wrong size, his having to endure an odd employee who used the guise of “professional Costume Designer” to grab his crotch several times to show us what we already knew (that the costume indeed did not fit)….the whole thing culminating with us in the restroom of a diner 15 minutes before we were supposed to be at the parade spraying his hair black and then busting ass through crazy throngs of costumed crowds to Soho before float liftoff…

Did I mention the float theme was Superhero? And everyone had amazing Superhero costumes? And I was dressed as a Star Trek character? Well…whattaya gonna do?  I went with it.

I can’t really explain the feeling of being up there with utter insanity below, thousands of people packed together, dancing, every costume you can imagine…waving at us, taking pictures, wanting to high five us, all of us heading down 6th Avenue to crazy Techno music right behind a pro-marijuana float run by a former male pornstar (now in his 70’s) known as Captain and flocked by young hot scantily clad chicks in Sailor outfits (P.S. Of course I snuck on his float to see what was going on, and his much younger girlfriend introduced herself then lifted Captain’s shirt to show me his hairy g-stringed butt…an image I will unfortunately never be able to fully erase from my mind)

The Captain

A completely insane night, people dancing and screaming and cops everywhere.  And, of course, the costumes!

And literally floating down that street…well,  it was complete and perfect madness… like that scene in Vanilla Sky where Tom Cruise runs through an empty Times Square…for a minute, you feel like you own the city…and in New York – the wildest, most exhausting, most exhilarating place on earth – well, to feel like you own it, even just for pretend, even just for a second…is kinda great.

Thank you Peter and Liat!

making new friends

And seriously, it was SURREAL.  I mean, this was the first thing I saw:

This is either ComicCon or a sign of the Apocolypse

The place was packed…it was sold out, too.   But being the awesome kæreste I am, I sweet-talked the people in the Press Room into giving us passes.  And I felt pretty cool, with my undeserved Press Pass…I also felt totally underdressed.

I swear, the whole thing was exhilarating.  Whatever scene you are drawn to…whether it be the classic Superhero or underground comic arts or some obscure  Manga character or (god forbid) you dig on Furries….you’ll feel right at home.  I mean, some people didn’t seem to have a specific character at all…I saw a few slutty nuns and more than one chick wearing a g-string and wig just ‘cause they felt like it…and I loved every minute.

The D&D Room

That's right...the original Hulk

I had so much fun.

Thomas meets one of his favorite comic book artists...my man is such a fanboy. I had no idea the extent of his geekdom until this moment. Look at his face, he's so happy!

And to tell you the truth…there was something really poignant and uplifting about the whole thing.  All these self-proclaimed geeks, many who probably feel out-casted or strange or mocked in the “real world”, find their voice in these fantasy universes.  As a writer I can relate to that…probably more than I’d like to admit. And there really was this great sense of belonging and camaraderie at ComicCon…and, of course, a totally exciting anything-goes quality…and LOTS of hook-ups.  I mean, it was practically a comic book orgy.

When I told this to one of the publishers how great the sense of community was, he agreed, saying “We all know each other within this world.  Unlike the real world, there isn’t judgment here.”  He also told me the reason  people don’t shake hands but do the fist pump greeting – I got it FOUR times – was the common knowledge that  a lot of the geeks at ComicCon “… don’t wash their hands.”  Well, no one is perfect.

So, I admit it…I am officially a Geek.

Preview of Danish filmmaker Tao Nørager’s documentary  about the making of HBH into a movie!

There is something incredibly raw and primal about his music…and his life, too.  And some point in the 80′s, he disappeared and stopped playing.  Turns out he was living with his mother in the strange, alternate universe they’d created in her house (Kerouac anyone?).  Some people believe the drugs are to blame…but the real problem was untreated schizophrenia…and a gifted, equally disturbed mother who preferred to keep him from being medicated.  They were oddly comfortable in their mutual psychosis. There is an amazing, heartbreaking documentary about his life.

So when we saw he was playing in NYC, we had to go. He has only come back to perform recently, and he only does it on occasion.  And it was great to see him and hear his music.

Part of him was not quite there…he was very dependent on the band, especially the guitarist, to keep him going.  There was something sweet  and kind of poignant about this band of young hipster 20-somethings acting as his protector and guardian. He’d look to them between each song for guidance and reassurance.  They’d ask him questions “How do you like NY, Roky?” and he’d grunt his answers, and they’d say, “Yeah, yeah, completely.”  Or they’d say things like, “This is your favorite song…right, Roky?” and he look happy.

And of course, Thomas got great pictures of the whole thing.

And in classic Thomas style, he walked us right onto the VIP balcony for the final few songs…and the bouncer didn’t even look twice (gotta love a cool Scandinavian).  So we got to see You’re Gonna Miss Me from the the balcony, and that was surreal.

The thing about Roky…when he played, there was a disconnect….his eyes were glassy and absent.  But here’s the thing…he still had that voice.  A voice like that is undeniable.  A gift.

And it was a gift to see him perform again.

and it made us happy:

and seeing Thomas happy is my favorite thing in the world!

TIMES SQUARE by day:

THE LOWER EAST SIDE by night: