I have started work on a new book MOLOCH (2020). MOLOCH will feature the flourishes and adornments I always wanted to put into SOHO (1996-99). If SOHO was the chrysalis then MOLOCH is the glorious iridescent butterfly.
My life has absolutely followed a pattern of 7 year eras:
1992 "discovering" Soho was the occasion of an incredible flourishing, blooming & blossoming in my life, erotically, musically, artistically, spiritually. When I tell you I'd never even seen a naked woman before, then you will appreciate the effect on me of descending those steepling deathtrap Sunset Strip stairs, watching the curtain squeak open and then seeing this young woman stripping to Tallulah. 1999 "discovering" Europe was occasion of a new flourishing, blooming & blossoming etc as I discovered "new Sohos" that gave me the erotic excitement Soho had once done. 2006 Flying Scotsman, 2013 post-marriage Vienna & Brussels. 2020?
For me SOHO just crackles with electricity, furious indignant controlled rage at anyone daring to try to crush me, and hilarity at them being so stupid to think they could. I love the exaltation in it; I love the tone of SUPERIORITY in it. The fact that in real life I am really so shy makes my tone of SUPERIORITY in the book all the more thrilling! Of course even a morbidly shy person can feel innately superior to every other person in the universe. The two things are not mutually exclusive, and certainly not in my case. My innate feeling of superiority is something I constantly have to suppress, to hide, like a Victorian lady with huge bosoms had to suppress them, as such overt exhibitions of “sexuality” and “erotic invitation” would wreak havoc on the world around them! (Turns me on just thinking about her, you little beauty you!) I love the RAGE and the VICIOUS TRIUMPH of every word of SOHO. I don’t know if this is normal but I re-read SOHO (start to finish) about five times every week and it thrills me every time. I enjoy all my own books, but they don’t give me a punch in the guts like SOHO does every time. 1998-1999 was the time I was under most pressure and this pressure produced my most powerful writing. In some sense I see myself at the start of SOHO as a caterpillar just entering the chrysalis, and I’ve been in it for more than 20 years. In MOLOCH I see now as the moment I finally emerge as the butterfly. But I shall find out—the idea of a book at the start is not necessarily where I will end up.
For me SOHO just crackles with electricity, furious indignant controlled rage at anyone daring to try to crush me, and hilarity at them being so stupid to think they could. I love the exaltation in it; I love the tone of SUPERIORITY in it. The fact that in real life I am really so shy makes my tone of SUPERIORITY in the book all the more thrilling! Of course even a morbidly shy person can feel innately superior to every other person in the universe. The two things are not mutually exclusive, and certainly not in my case. My innate feeling of superiority is something I constantly have to suppress, to hide, like a Victorian lady with huge bosoms had to suppress them, as such overt exhibitions of “sexuality” and “erotic invitation” would wreak havoc on the world around them! (Turns me on just thinking about her, you little beauty you!) I love the RAGE and the VICIOUS TRIUMPH of every word of SOHO. I don’t know if this is normal but I re-read SOHO (start to finish) about five times every week and it thrills me every time. I enjoy all my own books, but they don’t give me a punch in the guts like SOHO does every time. 1998-1999 was the time I was under most pressure and this pressure produced my most powerful writing. In some sense I see myself at the start of SOHO as a caterpillar just entering the chrysalis, and I’ve been in it for more than 20 years. In MOLOCH I see now as the moment I finally emerge as the butterfly. But I shall find out—the idea of a book at the start is not necessarily where I will end up.
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