I’ve got a self-published short story I’m releasing on Thursday. It’s titled “Fuck, Marry, Kill.”
I’ve talked before here how the title came first. I thought of the sometimes cruel word game of the same name and thought it would make a cool title, and the structure of the story came to me immediately. Three sections. A Fuck section. A Marry section. A Kill section.
Among many other things, the story is a love letter to New York City. I wrote it when Covid was first hitting, and no one knew what to expect of the future. New York City was getting hit hard, and the graphed lines of number of infections and number of deaths were trending sharply upward. It pained me to watch. I spent the first decade of my adult life there. I started writing there.
Our collective sense of what was normal was getting hit hard by the pandemic too. Masks and social distancing were new concepts. No one knew if they would be enough. No one knew what measures would be imposed next. So in addition to a love letter to NYC, the story became a love letter to everything that would be left behind if the world ended, or changed in some fundamental way. A love letter to youth. A love letter to sex. A love letter to Netflix. To road trips. To monogamy and fidelity. To marriage. To love.
The story comes out Thursday. Please buy it and read it if you find the time. I’ll put the story cover at the end of this post, but note the image will not be linked to the book yet. Just a teaser.
Time for commerce:
My website: jeffmwood.com.
My Amazon page.
My latest story: Veronica Scissors
My erotic story series, Serious Moonlight (as J G Cain)