By: A.T.Cross
Tommy is a clean-cut bookworm, still living with his parents and convinced soulmates aren’t merely a myth. His best friend Kaz is a wannabe rock star in search of the edge. When the two are offered a pair of tickets to Vegas, Kaz drags the cerebral virgin out into the world to teach him about grime and try to get him laid. Staggering along city streets and careening down the freeway in the middle of the night, their odyssey becomes a reckless tailspin of romanticism as the two examine the dream of love, the reality of sex, and the theory of rock ‘n’ roll.
I started writing this thing over twenty years ago, the day after Valentine’s day. Heart break, as it turns out, can be a suitable substitute for legitimate inspiration. At the time, I was hoping that it would impress a girl. I plugged away at it for years, filling in details and proudly exclaiming myself a writer to anyone who happened to walk past my table at the café or years later, bumped my elbow as I scribbled in a spiral notebook at the bar. It died on a laptop at 300 pages, 10 point, single spaced. For a few years I dragged the laptop around like a dead dog on a leash, hoping that it might hop up and wag its tail at me. The resurrection is another story altogether, but when the Harpy told me to publish it finally, the thought occurred to me that it was indeed a love letter to a suicider, and although my aim was slightly off, I did get the girl eventually.
Andrew Tomacelli 