25 Oct 2011

"Cough Syrup Surrealism" : The Blurb

Ever think you cling to pop culture like infant to teat, that your unwavering devotion to movies and music and literature merely -and inadequately- compensate for that first Freudian nip slip? That's Mao's theory anyway. But nobody listens to Mao because...well, because Mao is a figment of Charlie's imagination, his alter-ego if you will. Not that Charlie is your ever-reliable rock of ages. Oh no, the boy has problems. Problems with a capital P. P as in Paloma of course, she of the flaming hair and predilection for junk. Junk as in smack, heroin, brown sugar. Junk as in jail time. But what's a boy supposed to do? Matters of the heart have minds of their own.

An unwitting Charlie -rudely interrupted in the middle of typing out his umpteenth suicide note- is hurled into a brave new world of addiction and rock music and debauchery in this tale of growing up and going down. From rolling joints to rolling in drug money, from backing out of life to fronting somebody else's rock band, he's in for a bumpy ride. Tagging along and egging him on are Viraz, Zag and Rohit, a motley crew if there ever was one. Charlie divides his time between being in love with Paloma and hating himself, between living out Nineties music video fantasies and wishing he were someone else. The problem is it’s 2006 and nobody watches MTV anymore. Or makes mix tapes, or thinks it’s cool to hate oneself and want to die.

Elsewhere in the vasoline are Papa who simply cannot understand what happened to Straight-A's Charlie, Mummy who is convinced his long hair and ripped jeans are all part of an elaborate ploy to give her a heart attack and Sania, Paloma's best friend, who appears to be carrying a flame for Charlie that lights up and goes out as regularly as Paloma's own affections for him. After walking out on his parents only to find Paloma's boyfriend Rish -he of the multiple tattoos and hairy man nipples- is back after a stint in rehab, Charlie is forced to figure out which one of his many lives he really wants for himself. Question: you can take a boy out of the Nineties, but can you take the Nineties out of him? 

The above is the blurb for my soon-to-be-epubbed novel "Cough Syrup Surrealism". I'd like to know if it appeals enough to make you want to read it, but steal any of it and I promise I'll rip your tongue out (as soon as they create an appropriate emoticon)

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