March the Two

Hi, I'm Raven Mack, and I'm always up to something even if it's not cybernetted for your eyeballs. It is March and as you can tell by the rotten basketball from my pig pen above, basketball is not my favorite sport. My favorite sport is actually word fighting arts aka writing.

The wires above will have you pretend the cyberbot machines are a newfound way of expressing yourself. This is a lie, friend, trust me, I have seen the internal panopticon. The future is fire, not wifi-er.

With that in mind, I am looking for two willing people to co-author book projects with. A raw development of Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts is this New Writing that has started to volunteer blossom within the compost pile that is the internet. I have recently started a project with a longtime comrade, which will be a secret obviously other than me teasing you with that. But if you are a writerly person who can do a back-and-forth writing style and want to brainstorm a project, hit me up at ravenmack at gmail dotcom. We can do this under fake names, a combined fake name (like that O.U. Levon book from Ken Kesey teaching writing at Oregon), or go by our real names. We can even mix and match that. But here is what I'm looking for:

1) A person who is serious as fuck about writing, but not one of those serious writers. In other words, all you think about is writing, yet you don't really have fucking time to talk about how to write to other assholes inside the asshole machine.

2) A person with prolific creativity who works well with others and also embraces chaos.

3) Sliding scale here with three parts that go to 50 each: be strong with words (like no asshole writers please), be strong with spirit (even the mundane), be strong with brain wildfire (and able to let it loose rather than contain it). If on a sliding scale of 1 to 50 on those three categories you score above 123 total, we might be a good match.

If you are having asshole writer thoughts about what we will do with it when done, man I don't know. We can sell it as ebooks or put it on pastebin for free or mimeograph with the blood of albino pygmies and leave it on the painfully bouncy backseat of every Megabus from here to Chicago. We can cross that bridge once we've finished building it, Cochise.

But when we are done, we will have built word versions of Vollis Simpson's whirligigs, hidden along the back roads of the information superhighway. And we will have done something real.

So all interested parties holler at your boy Raven Mack aka 1000 Feathers.