Author Archives: Ben Drevlow

We’re Trying to Tell You

We’re Trying to Tell You

Fiction by

A little respect is all he’s asking for, but of course we ignore him, it’s either that or tell him to go fuck himself, but in our last kids-only family meeting, Jett said we had to keep Dad on the even keel, that if we wanted to avoid counseling and a barrage of new medications, if we wanted to avoid the screaming and the threats, we’d better lay low, that turning up the volume on our iPads was a better way to go about ignoring Dad’s new crisis. Besides it kept Mom from getting her headaches, from binge-watching those trashy Housewives shows.more

Maybe For Derek

Maybe For Derek

Fiction by

I read the last four pages while she showered. I cried through every word (spoiler alert: the chimpanzee died). I hugged her and told her it was the most beautiful ending to a novel ever, that great things were coming our way. She sat down and poured over the new pages, bawling like I had, perhaps harder, as if she didn’t know what was coming. She called me a genius. I joked that behind every great man is a great woman. We made love right there on the for-shit table, pushing the typewriter and the manuscript out of the way. Before we could finish, the table collapsed. We finished on the broken pieces on the floor.more

George Singleton

George Singleton

BULL Interview by

One time I had a woman say to me, “Don’t you just love Nicholas Sparks?” I said, “He might be one of the worst writers in the English language.” She said, “But he’s a millionaire!” I said, “People in America spend a lot more money on baloney than they do filet mignon. That doesn’t make baloney good for them.”more

Unbearable Burden of Being

Unbearable Burden of Being

Essay by

I am bad at killing myself. When you are unsuccessful at suicide some people say you really just want attention or that it’s a cry for help. But really, sometimes you just suck at it.more

Animals Maul Me

Animals Maul Me

Fiction by

Sometimes you can watch hearts break in public if you know what you’re lookin’ at. I saw a boy eat spaghetti. He ate like a tiger, like a toad, like a firefly. His eyes bulged out of his head and he held his fork so delicately, it was as if he was scared it might break. more

Hosho McCreesh

Hosho McCreesh

BULL Interview by

I knew he had to be challenging. I knew he had to be his own biggest problem. I knew he had to be the hero and the villain of his life… I just didn’t know why. I knew I wanted to write a book about America, but I knew I didn’t want to write a sermon from a pulpit.more

LOVE IN THE TIME OF TEXT, DON’T CALLERA: THE LOST SAD LAUGHTER CHAPTER

LOVE IN THE TIME OF TEXT, DON’T CALLERA: THE LOST SAD LAUGHTER CHAPTER

Fiction by

“Sure, you probably published several books but the true highlight of your thirties so far has been you dismissively allowing your mind, body, and soul to gradually unravel like an old sweater.”more

Brian Alan Ellis

Brian Alan Ellis

BULL Interview by

I want to matter. I want to make a name for myself. I want revenge on people who have abandoned/rejected me in the past. I want to be a big shot, like someone I look up to or have looked up to. I want to transcend my reality of just being another nameless, faceless person who gets up and just goes to work.more

Tom Pitts

Tom Pitts

BULL Interview by

  Throw out everything you know about crime fiction. Tom Pitts, author of Hustle and American Static, returns with a plot stickier than an ounce of Humboldt County’s finest. 101 is typical Tom Pitts, the kind of novel that proves he’ll forever and ever have followers, trailing behind him begging for one more hit. —Eryk Pruitt, author of What We Reckonmore

PLANTAINS

PLANTAINS

Fiction by

The plantain is black. It is black. It is black yet it has lightened. It is black yet it feels healthy elastic. The peel hardens up and goes cold. It is a black plantain yet there are signs of stirring life. New grassy hairs the color of wood shavings uncurl from the place where themore