I was 21 when Bukowski died. Old enough to drink in a bar. Young enough to believe his bullshit. ~ Foreword by Victor Paul Alvarez
I was 16, or 17 maybe, when I read Bukowski for the first time. Impressionable as I was at the time his cutting edge and crisp stories, his declarative but straight forward sentences shaped my views of lit more than anyone else, except Philippe Djian maybe. From time to time I love to go back to my well thumped Bukowski paperbacks like Ham On Rye, Hot Water Music or Factotum and read them again. He taught me to love the oddballs and outsiders, those who don´t bullshit me. Or if they do than at a minimum it should be good bullshit.
Long Distance Drunks is an anthology with short stories and poems as a homage to Bukowski. Sounds like a winner to me. I am only familiar with Craig Wallwork and by name with Vincenzo Bilof and Richard Thomas. No idea where this will lead me, though, but as long as someone´s reading Kafka while gambling on horses and drinking I am fine with everything.