Nicholas Morgan
Texas
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• What do you do for a living?
I taste test different whiskeys for all the distilleries around the world. It keeps me very busy and they pay for all my plane flights. I’m constantly traveling to exotic places; it’s a rough job. Actually, I work in a bookstore. I’ve worked a lot of different jobs in my years, and have hated them all. I hope to retire soon.
• Who are your favorite artists?
Hmm, that’s hard to say, I am still catching up on a lot of reading I should have done when I was younger. I probably haven’t found my favorites yet, but I just love that Danielle Steele, can’t get enough of her. Such talent.
• What influences you to write about/how you do?
My cat, Friday, he is my biggest influence. He has this little pinhead, with pink ears, and a pink mouth. He purrs a lot, and likes to snuggle. Sometimes he licks my toes when I’m sleeping.
• Where do you see the underground writing scene in 25 years?
I don’t know. Maybe Cait will open a huge library in her basement. I don’t know. There will always be struggling writers working shit jobs, and they will continue to go unnoticed by the mainstream lit scene. Cause I think most of the writers in the underground do it for themselves, and not to get famous or make money off it. I have never sent anything out in the snail mail to the big wigs, cause it would most likely be rejected, and I wouldn’t want to have to buy stamps. I can tell you most of the poetry and fiction I shelve, is a bunch of boring crap, written by college graduates, who ware black turtle necks and are smarter then me, but we all have different taste.
• from cait - including your menus for breakfast, lunch, dinner/snacks, what did you do for the past 48 hours and don’t leave out, who you were with, what/who you talked about, etc etc etc and please include the uglies and be specific with every detail…thank you very much - burp
In the last 48 hours I ate nothing, and thought about killing myself about three hundred and 33 times, while I was doing that, I snorted an 8 ball of cocaine, drank jim beam, smoked dirt weed, dropped some x, masturbated, got paranoid, twitched a bit, tried to calm down, I called a suicide hotline number and they put me on hold for half an hour, then this lady came on and said, they don’t give over the phone counseling, at that point I started banging my head against the wall, and searched for my keys so I could drive down the wrong side of the freeway going 100 miles per hour, and hopefully kill a family of republican mini van folks on there way back from church, instead I tried to score some heroin in this scummy ass trailer park and almost got robbed by these little wigger mutant boys. Then I tried to stomach some beef jerky, but it came back out, then went and hung out at my friend’s motel room, woke up on the floor with sore hips, and realized I had to be at work an hour ago. I proceeded to vomit this yellow orange bile all over my chest, cause I couldn’t move or feel my fingers. Of course, I’m just kidding, I actually had a date with Danielle Steele in New York, we talked about writing, and then I met my agent in LA after that, and we had tea and crumpets, while discussing my latest novel. I don’t really like to leave my apartment. It’s scary out there.
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