Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Phebe's on Bowery, excerpt from The Anarchist's Girlfriend 12/11 debut published by Pelekinesis New review!



"Somewhere along the Bowery the Anarchist's Girlfriend walks herself, her spirit taking her body. She wants to see the sunrise..." 

This New Edition has significant new material. It's released by Pelekinesis at http://pelekinesis.com/catalog/susan_...
 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-a...
and at Amazon but do make sure it's New Edition!

FROM: The Anarchist's Girlfriend free reading at Dixon Place, Dec.8th




It was 4 P.M. when the dreamy blonde crossed to Cooper Square. She was dressed Rangerette style; white boots with pom-poms, a red satin cowgirl mini and vest, a silver belt, and a gray pull-string hat. One cur, a yellowish thing, followed her. I fell in line, pausing at a music store to offset any suspicions. The racks of sheet music were exhaustive. I waited five minutes before following her into Phebe's restaurant on the Bowery. The dog waited outside. I ordered a coke from an alcove, where she couldn't see me. I watched and waited, drinking in some local  color. 

A Mayflower truck pulled over at Bowery and Fourth. The door fell open. The driver fell out of the cab, writhing on the cement. Two people tried to lift the insensible driver. A waiter ran out of Phebe's with what appeared to be a #2 yellow pencil. All were stopped by words from the AG. Honking cars were directed by the two people around the driver. A cool white hand removed the pencil before it could dangerously be chomped in two. She put the waiter to keep the crowd at bay and kept him in her sights as…That same cool hand deposited a dime in the payphone over my head. 




REVIEW--The Anarchist’s Girlfriend, a novel by Susan Weinstein; Pelekinesis 

Known only as the AG, the anarchist’s girlfriend is a fey beauty with ESP, and an unlikely Go-Go Dancer in an out-of-the-way Brooklyn bar. The Anarchist, an Irishman who wants to fix the Irish troubles through organic food, having founded Food for Vendettas, plasters his subversive silkscreened posters all over the streets of 1980’s New York City. There is a sense of déjà vu as Sandy, the meanie of the story, sets in motion a terrorist act that will cause the country to believe in its eventual downfall, using dust as the weapon. “There will be a sigh that a catastrophe has finally occurred. Yet it’s limited in extent and duration.” The key to the anarchistic meme is effect, not result. It’s all eerily suggestive of 9/11. A deaf mute, Wayne, a con artist-like Llama, founder of the Denotational Church, and the Anarchist’s Girlfriend shape the plot in this past tense futuristic novel that taps into the absurd with sure-handed writing and a voice that does not judge but carries on quietly through downtown New York before it became real estate fodder, when artists and anarchists could still afford to roam the streets, with time to listen, to dream and to plot grandly, if naively. Susan Weinstein’s freewheeling prose, wry humor and inspired, madcap observations have created a romp of a good book.



Janyce Stefan-Cole, author of The Detective's Garden