Despair

crisis1We are floundering in the morass of the internet, and have grown desperate for some kind of encouragement or recompense for love’s labors. Please, anyone reading this, buy the actual book. It is not expensive and if you care enough to read this post, to like it on facebook, to feel a flutter in your chest when the suggestion of the world ending via an uncontrollable accumulation of queer ultraviolence, then you will likely consider it worth seven dollars. The Heteropocalypse flows from our minds and tongues, burbling with a burgeoning expanse of glossalalia smut, and we cast it out into the world where it finds no purchase, like a cumshot or golden shower that somehow elides it’s target by some mystery of urological physics.

The following valiant attempts to publish and distribute The Heteropocalyse have been conducted.

1. submission to publishers and literary agents.
2. creation of a facevirus account.
3. submission to literary journals and magazines.
4. appropriation of the OkCupid algorithm.
5. self publishing on amazon.com

crisis2All the myriad tools of modern capitalism have been summoned for our purpose and, unsurprisingly the fruits have been meager, witness:

1. Polite form letters rejecting our offers.
2. Nine hundred and three “friends” twenty-nine “likes” and a few dozen “thumbs up” or comments on posts.
3. Silence.
4. Hundreds of conversations, much superficial encouragement, a few authentic and interesting exchanges with rad queers, a few depressed people asking for advice / dates, many astonishingly banal conversations (this one is the most baffling, we can understand being repelled by our content, but to respond with droll monosyllabic indifferent acceptance? How overstimulated people must be), one sexting exchange which included a picture of bare breasts that was soon followed by judgmental condemnation and shaming, extensive advice on how to viral market using more click bait and other non-consensual dirty tricks, discouragement from viral marketing erotic and deviant content even with warnings, three exchanges of interesting cultural artifacts, two actual purchases of the book.
5. $3.45

Our next step is this desperate plea: buy the book! Support the coming of the end of all things! Lift our hearts from this shroud of despair and hopelessness, this cruel promise of the world without a world in it anymore that floods our dreams, but dangles beyond our reach. Once you buy it, read it, share it, support it, touch us, please! Give us reason to carry on and usher forth the extensive strangeness of what remains.

crisis

Rejection

rejection1In the past few weeks, we have submitted the heteropocalypse text to 13 publishers and 41 literary agents. Ten replied with rejection form letters, one said we should consider it a rejection if we don’t hear back in two weeks, and only one wrote an actual rejection letter. We cast a wide net, figuring that the sensibilities required to appreciate or want to see this particular text flourish are not the ones that a person tends to confess in their literary agent’s bio and list of interests.

If you throw fifty used condoms around, you’re bound to hit at least one cum guzzling slut. Likewise, we hope one of the many submissions or query letters we sent out will have found fertile ground. As of yet, this has not come to pass.
rejection2As much as someone (or thirteen someones, as the case may be) lowers their expectations and prepared for the worst, rejection and waiting do take their toll upon the psyche. We struggle and question both our prospects and our faith. Defeat feels like a constant companion, one who feeds upon our souls and grows inevitably as we diminish. Nevertheless, whenever we return to the text itself, whether in translation of the bizarre language we are channelling, or in seminary reflection and study, or simply casual reading and editing, we come away impressed and troubled in equal measure. We continue to believe in this project.

Whether we find our freak literary agent or editor or we resort to self publishing, we will usher this text into this world.

As the Romans say, Sempre Avanti!  — Always Forward!
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