I used to tour the country performing spoken word. I still do, but I used to, too. Right now I live in a very old house in Austin, Texas, cooking out every Sunday and writing my second novel, which doesn't have a name yet.
I don't work a job, and I don't trust people who do. My favorite sports are American football and American presidential politics. I don't live in Chicago anymore but I root for the Bears and Barack Obama to win their respective contests.
In April I got married to this real pretty girl I tricked into agreeing to hang out with me for the rest of her life. It happened on a boat.
My first full-length collection of poetry, sometimes you gotta fight the bear, was released by Shotgun Honey Press in late 2006. It features a cover illustration by frippy and a hundred and two pages of poems worth not-throwing-away that I wrote between 2003-2006. I am learning a lot about how book distribution works; I was gonna recommend that you go to your local Barnes and Noble or Borders and stick it to the man by ordering fifty copies under the guise of being a professor teaching a class on the book, or running a book club, or something, but it won't work at all and will result only in stacks of coverless books being returned to the distributor. You can't get ahead by cheating, and you'd do well to remember that. As of August 2007, all of that is irrelevant because the book's sold out and Shotgun Honey, which pretends to be a legit publisher but is secretly just my wife and I, is relocating to London and will not be distributing in the United States until an outside distributor wants to partner up. You reading, outside distributors?
I have a website at www.dansolomon.com and you can look at it if you're so inclined. It's got poems and mp3s and tour dates and a book I wrote and some other stuff on it.
There will be a single, solitary American show at the end of August, in Austin. After that, there will be no American dates until after the next President has been elected. Expect scattered dates throughout Europe, especially England, in late 2007 and most of 2008. You now have the information necessary to track my every move.
What I am is what I do. Tonight I stay up too late and move my hands over a piece of metal and plastic and hope that the lines and curves that appear on a screen as a reaction to my movements somehow represent actual thoughts and feelings. Tomorrow I will be something else.
