Steve Abee began writing as an orderly at St. John's hospital in Santa Monica. He has previously published three books, King Planet, The Bus: Cosmic Ejaculations of the Daily Mind in Transit, and Great Balls of Flowers. He teaches middle school English and lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two daughters.
Johnny Future, the drugged-out narrator of Abee's abysmal latest, lives on a skuzzy stretch of Hollywood Boulevard. After a night of recreational Nyquil drinking, Johnny visits a friend and has the first of several hallucinations that will plague him throughout the novel. His wastoid adventures are the stuff of adolescent fantasy: he consumes many drugs, has many bizarre experiences, lands a job at a sex shop and ends up on a wild adventure with a stripper named America. Despite self-assessments like I'm Johnny Future, small parking lot good creature of the sun, friend of man and beast, taco stand of love, he remains a cipher, and the novel rests artlessly on his shoulders. The supporting characters fare no better and seldom rise above caricature: paraplegic transvestite Baby Juice is paraded for shock value, and America is a cliché vagabond Madonna whose sudden, soulful connection to Johnny is predicted by a fortune teller. This disorganized mess goes nowhere interesting and says nothing new. (Oct.)
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