Dear readers, Ellroy fans, and seditious sustainers of the American literary tradition:
This is James Ellroy—the Demon Dog of American Literature himself—baying at you from his posh pad at an undisclosed location in the American West/Near Midwest. As you may know, I’m digitally illiterate, so you’ve got to gas on the fact that I’m breaking baaaaaaaaad from tradition, in order to post this announcement. Why mince words, kats? June 4, 2019 announces my confounding canonization in the hellaciously hallowed halls of the Great American Novelist Brigade!!!!! That’s the priapic prelude, and here’s the wicked wind-up and pitch:
My new novel will be published in the U.S. and Great Britain that day. The title is This Storm. It’s the second volume of my Second L.A. Quartet. The first volume, Perfidia, was a mash-your-soul massive novel of L.A. in the month of December, 1941—the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. This Storm picks up my noxious narrative of wartime L.A. on New Year’s Eve—’41 into ’42. Baaaaaaaaad juju is jumping in my smog-smacked fatherland—and YOU will have a fractiously fragged front-row seat!!!!! This Storm is chock-full of my trippingly trenchant crime shit, political shit, racial shit, cop shit, sex shit, and passionate men and women in love shit!!! It’s gonna bite the boogaloos of worldwide readers, en masse!!!!! And, that’s just half of the staggering story!!!!!
I’ve been inducted into the prongingly prestigious Everyman’s Library. I’m now in the achingly august company of hotshots like Albert Camus, John Updike, Chinua Achebe, Katherine Mansfield, Saul Bellow, Joseph Heller, and the kooly contemporary Joan Didion and Salman Rushdie—kats who, of kourse, I’ve never read. The L.A. Quartet—The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential, and White Jazz—komprise one fabulously fat volume. The Underworld U.S.A. Trilogy—American Tabloid, The Cold Six Thousand, and Blood’s A Rover—comprise two fabulously fat volumes. Check out the foto spray that accompanies this insidious internet posting. These books look great and are great. They are be-bop beacons beckoning you to licentiously live lurid licks of 20th Century American History. June 4, 2019. Save the date. Jolting juju will be jumping your way. The Demon Dog will be putting his pustulent pawprint on yet more kalamitous kommuniques. Stay stirringly tuned to this website for further updates.