Saturday, July 16, 2005

The Lazy Days of Deep Summer

A crowd had gathered.

Henry Winkler and Penny Marshall were beating each other senseless over the second half of a bologna sandwich. Winkler’s face was scratched considerably, and Marshall’s clothing was torn in at least three places. Both had bloodshot eyes, and a bloodstain was beginning to spread inside Winkler’s left pant leg. The sandwich lay in the dirt; dust from the canyon winds now swirling around it, coating it with fine, brown silt.

“It’s mine!”
“Fuck you!”

This went on for days. Nearby roads were paved, elections came and went, a mini-mall had been erected. Local authorities had expected the two to simmer down on their own, shake hands, and walk away from it all like the old friends they were. Sheriff Clemson, desperate to placate the townsfolk, consulted the authorities and once an agreement had been made, dumped both Winkler and Marshall into the shark tank at Sea World, during feeding time. The Sheriff looked skyward and mopped his tense, wet brow.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

About the Author

Born and raised in Ware, Massachusetts, Harris Tanner has quietly become one of the most revered crime novelists of the 21st century. His first novel, A Wince Before Bedtime, was an electrifying international bestseller, introducing the world to Runce Pepsi, Tanner’s hero detective. Tanner’s success was firmly cemented with his following effort, Trash Mouth, and the now classic Pissterine, which won the Booker Prize of 2002. Never one to let up, Tanner has written more than twelve riveting Runce Pepsi novels since, including Mop-Up, I'll Give You a Concussion, Sump Hole, and Shit For Brains. In 2003, he was awarded the prestigious National Book Award for his powerful memoir of childhood, Up Yours. He divides his time between Paris and New York.

Hear what the critics are saying about Harris Tanner:
“...a sea of floating garbage...idiotic...”
– New York Times
“Tanner successfully pukes into the face of American letters.
” – Publisher’s Weekly
“Runce Pepsi is a miserable, stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
– Kirkus Review