Dear All,
This is the latest episode of Don’t Press That Button, a newsletter about books and music and movies and cats and baseball and whatnot. As the name would indicate, we are very cautious about buttons around here. How cautious? So cautious that I’ve now written 10 or 15 different entries on Button Danger. People have asked, “How long can you keep this button stuff going? Do you regret setting out on this path?” The answers are 1) I don’t know and 2) Yes. I pressed a button there, I’m afraid. I made a commitment to you, my friends on the Internet, and to myself, to chase this bit to the very end of the line. Let my predicament be a lesson to you.
The button below only subscribes you to this newsletter, thank goodness. When you click this button, you are in no way deciding to riff on buttons until the apocalypse arrives. If you’re new here, and you’d like to stick around, you can safely do so by clicking on it.
The Baking Soda Solution
Recent history is rich in irreplaceable Oateses: There is the late great actor Warren Oates, whose particular crackling screen presence really has no comparison; there is John Oates, without whom Hall and Oates would be half as cool; and, of course, there is the legendary novelist Joyce Carol Oates, a true American treasure.
My favorite Oates book is You Must Remember This. It’s a long family novel, deeply disturbing in places, utterly enthralling, and unforgettable. Among other things, it includes the best boxing scene I’ve ever read, and a fascinating subplot about a man building a bomb shelter. I love it.
So, when I stumbled across a signed edition of her novel Mysteries of Winterthurn for five dollars, I did not hesitate! What a deal!
Small problem: While the book looked perfect, it reeked of must like it had been kept on a high shelf in a flooded basement. As “The Monkey’s Paw” and other stories have told us, if it’s too good to be true, it’s probably too good to be true.
Now, we don’t do much science around here. I am not good at it, and it confuses me. In our undergraduate days, my friend Jen, official copy editor of DPTB, somehow convinced me to help her with some sort of experiment she was conducting on the Vassar Farm that involved tending to some corn stalks. My lasting recollection is of stumbling around in the dust on a sunny afternoon, dragging a hose and repeatedly, worriedly asking Jen, “Like this? Like this?” Reader, she fired me.
I had to make an exception for the nice JCO book, however, and I thought maybe some of you might have a musty book or two in need of detoxification. I found this helpful page on the Internet. Option two, locking the book in an airtight container with baking soda, seemed like a good idea, and I went ahead and tried it.
I left Mysteries of Winterthurn in the sealed box with the baking soda for a week, and took it out yesterday. The baking soda solution was successful. I still detect a faint earthiness, but it smells much, much better. Proceed with confidence.
The Psychic Benefits
By now, many of you are familiar with my favorite band, the Paranoid Style. If you aren’t, I hope you will be, because they are awesome. There’s sometimes a little bit of the Faces and NRBQ in their songs, and there’s sometimes a little bit of Yo La Tengo and Sleater-Kinney, but mostly, they’re just their own thing — super literate, super funny, and going all out all the time to get you jumping up and down.
In addition, the band’s core, Elizabeth Nelson and Tim Bracy, happen to be among my very best friends in the world. I’d be lost without them.
I’ve decided to inaugurate a P-Style fan club and name it The Psychic Benefits after one of their rare early tracks. For now, the fan club will just be a semi-regular feature here at DPTB where we talk to Elizabeth and Tim, but down the road we may break it off into its own Substack. Discussions on that are on-going with Tad Unreasonable, the band’s irascible manager, sound tech, and fantasy sports advisor.
Would you like to join the fan club? Yes? All right! You’re in!
So, here’s our first segment:
Psychic Benefits: Beth, when you are not writing songs and playing music, you are an avid golfer. What is your position on pretending to play guitar on a golf club when something goes well during a round, or even just for fun?
Elizabeth Nelson: My position is that it's fucking awesome. When you roll in a snaking fifteen-footer to win a match against some country club cretin, you should always just turn right around to face them and start windmilling your putter like Townshend at Monterrey. These guys have thin skin and the chances of inducing a hilarious tantrum are extremely robust. Another thing you can do is set up Marshall stack on the green and just start rutting against it like Hendrix at Monterey. I would draw the line on setting my putter on fire, since you're going to need that thing again, though that would be pretty cool, I must admit. The point is, your putter is your instrument. Go ahead and shred.
The Latest
On October 2, I have the pleasure of talking to Chuck Wendig about his relentlessly entertaining supernatural thriller, Black River Orchard, in Red Hook at Rose Hill Farm. It’s not just literature, either: There will be apples! The event is sponsored by Oblong Books, and if you’d like to buy a ticket and attend, or if you’d like to order signed books and have them shipped to wherever you are, here’s the place to look. It’s a stellar novel and it’s going to be a great evening.
It’s been a while since I mentioned: Gauntlet Press is publishing a special edition of The Curator that includes (among other extras!) a forward by the legendary Joe Lansdale. It’s available for preorder.
I’m going to be attending Christopher Golden’s House of Last Resort Weekend in Portsmouth in January, and I’m not the only one! If you can make it, it’s going to be a blast. Slap a bookmark on Chris’s page and check back for more details.
You Asked for It
If you ever have a question, and I have a half-decent answer for that question, I’ll answer it. Carla asked, “When you do write with a partner, what software do you prefer?”
For collaboration, I’ve used Google Docs, regular Word documents, Final Draft, and a couple of other programs. (I haven’t used Scrivener, but I hear positive things.) I feel like they all have their merits, so I don’t really have a preference. The one essential thing is that I be able to track the work that I do in such a way that my collaborator will be able to tell what I’ve changed in the document.
Thank you for the question, Carla.
Recommendations
Just one this time out, but it’s a goodie: Voting! I read that Taylor Swift convinced thousands of people to register to vote. She’s awesome. If you put me on the spot, I’d say my favorite of her songs is “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” but it wouldn’t be an easy choice. Anyway, voting is a nice thing. Are you registered to vote? Are you sure?
As ever, my thanks for subscribing, and in case you ever have a question or a comment or just want to say hi, if you reply to the email, I will see it. I’m over on Instagram, too, if you’d like to follow along there.
All Best,
Owen