bullshit rodeo

Mr. Postman usually just brings me junk mail and leaves rubber bands on my doorstep. Today he did better. He brought a fresh copy of Bullshit Rodeo, a 2010 novel by Texan writer Misti Rainwater-Lites.

Misti came to my attention when she co-authored a collection of poems and stories with my old friend M.P. Powers, an Illinois-born writer I've known for years online and with whom I've had the pleasure of drinking beer and Cuban coffee on trips to Florida, where he's been based for most of his life.

I bought the Powers-Misti book really to read M.P.'s stuff. But I also enjoyed the rough, tough hard and dirtysweet lines of his collaborator. Powers tells me that out of the oeuvre of the prolific Misti, he likes Bullshit Rodeo best of all. Hence my purchase. 

Powers says: "If you thought her poetry was good, or just alright, you will love this. It's almost unbelievable how good it is. A friend of mine said it reminded him of Henry Miller (before Paris). One other guy said it was as if On the Road had been written by Anne Sexton, only better."

The plot? According to Powers:  "it's basically about a woman's crumbling marriage and her son and how she develops a crush on a writer, and how she flies out to San Fran to see him only to come home disappointed because he wants nothing to do with her. Interwoven through all this are stories of her life growing up in Texas."

 I consider Powers to be a man of almost impeccable taste when it comes to writing. So I'll be mightily surprised if this doesn't push at least some of my joy buttons. Let's see.