From Slushpile.net - The setting sun against the cyclone wire fence casts a glare that momentarily blinds me as I open the envelope. It’s late afternoon, clocks are being punched out, and I hear car radios blare from the road as factory workers and pipe fitters screech out of warehouse parking lots. I see an old Camaro, once primered gray but now the front panels are back in black, flashing around a corner, signaling the start of Miller Time. I block the glare with my hand and look at the book pulled from the envelope. UPS trucks finished with their deliveries roar by me in the parking lot, you ain’t going to see what Brown can do for you no more today, and a driver yells for me to get the fuck out of the way as I stand there laughing uncontrollably. He sees the book in my hand, assesses the hysteria on my face, and suddenly stops honking, gives me an embarrassed shrug and a wave, and slowly drives around me. The glare off the fence may be the glow of revelation, I’m about to be converted, and there’s no way Brown is going to stand in my way.

On the drive home, talk radio features this group bitching about that group, some guy claims a religious crusade is scouring the country free of personal liberties while a lady calls in to shriek that her church is desperately defending family values and morals in this corrupt society. And I have sitting beside me a book about picking up women, about getting laid, a book that I will soon learn contains never-ending erections, Playboy playmates, dog training tips, notorious Hollywood madams, celebrity dirt, Juarez whores, threesomes, and international trysts. And this damn grimoire of seduction is designed to look just like The Bible. Fake leather cardboardy cover, gilded pages, red fabric bookmarker, gold embossed lettering on the cover. I can remember my grandmother being offended at Def Leppard’s use of the title Rock of Ages and now I can’t imagine what she would do if she picked up this bible with stripper girls on the cover. The UPS driver thought I was a holy roller waiting for redemption. Instead, I’m on the road to perdition and Neil Strauss, a guy with an uncanny ability for bestsellers but previously lacking all game with women, is my Elmer Gantry, leading me to the promised place of endless sex, complete control of any situation, and book deals without proposals and pitches.

Interview: Neil Strauss, Author [Slushpile]