William Boyle — a burgeoning Brooklyn boss of his own, ever-growing literary criminal underworld — stops by to talk about bonne chance, elevator pitches, growing up in the early 90s, writing an interconnected thing like a Robert Altman movie, pausing for coffee, Herbert Selby. Jr., Brooklyn as a landscape of spiritual anguish, real bars and made up bars and a combination of the two, smoking, The Wrong Number, sitting in a dive bar watching Cheers, run-of-the-mill shenanigans, and skylight B&E.
Bill’s been a friend of the DrunkSkull Worldwide Movement since the early days. Here is a quote from his review of the print edition of THIRST, followed by a little video of everything both he and I drank one weekend during the launch.
“One of my favorite books of 2013, the kind of poetry collection I don’t stumble across that often, the kind that hits like a freight train and makes me want to drink and drink and be alive forever.”
