I agreed to participate in a blog meme in which my buddy Ethan asks me five questions, any five questions, and then I in turn ask somebody else five questions. So here are the five questions he sent, and my answers:

1.  Like me, you have writing aspirations.  Unlike me, you have actually written a book.  Is your book, in fact, finished?  Can you give us a teaser?  Have you made efforts at getting published?

I’ve made slim to nil efforts to get published on a book that is all but done. It can’t be done until an editor tells me what’s wrong with it. Which I hope isn’t “start over.” The few editors who’ve seen it said it’s great but difficult to market.

Teaser? I can’t publish it here, any of it, without losing the chance to get paid for it later (I think). But I’ll say this: it’s about sexual culpability at a nudist colony in 1983, as told by a fourteen-year-old girl being raised there. She’s basically had it with Dad, her creepy neighbor (fat Jerry--no kidding, more on that later), the mentally retarded girl that is her only friend at camp, and nudity in general. In the opening scene, set poolside with all neighbors in full view, she has rebelled by wearing everything she owns at once. A new guy in his mid-thirties pulls up in the drive. The new arrival sees her; she sees his tan line. In her search to find out more about this stranger (the colony makes a nice place to hide, she says, from the law, from the ex, from anything), she discovers the secret lives of her family and neighbors, and starts a secret life of her own.

If you want to read some I’ll mail it to you.

Regarding Fat Jerry: a prominent player at the colony is distinctly fat and named Jerry, which I forgot about when I was trying to name this site. I must have some weird mental image of this character FJ engraved on the inside of my skull.

As to why I haven’t published, or tried: you know, I sent out a few short stories, which were rejected but well received with handwritten requests for more material, but I’m not sure what to do with a novel. You need an agent, I don’t know how to find an agent, and I’m lazy and don’t know what to do with it. But I would love to see it in print. I fell in love when I was writing the book with everybody in it. It’s a bit like I’ve built Pinocchio, but can’t manage to animate him.

2.  Living alone in New York is a bold, completely life-altering choice to make.  If you hadn’t taken that step, how do you think your life would have unfolded to this point?

Ah, but I didn’t live alone when I moved here. I came with Parker, as you know (Parker being his online pseudonym, but you know who I mean). I wouldn’t have done it at all if Parker hadn’t piped up when I said, “I’m thinking of going to New York.” And then it was a done deal.

That’s not the question you asked but it brings me to the answer, which is that, obviously, I’d have been hanging with a different set of friends. And who knows what influence they might have been. Perhaps I’d have found love with a pirate, lost an eye in a shooting gallery, won the big trifecta, drowned in my tub. Impossible to say. If I’d moved back to Chicago, which I’d have done if Parker hadn’t had the brilliant idea to join me, I probably would be drinking a lot more and/or in AA. My friends there had heartier appetites for booze than even we have in NYC. Also, I would have had to grow an exoskeleton to survive another Chicago winter.

There’s at least one secret romantic rendezvous that wouldn’t have happened had I not moved to NYC, but you aren’t interested in that. Or did I tell you? I can’t remember who I blathered to about that. But maybe, if I’d moved to Chicago, gay Chef Ted from Top Chef would’ve realized he was straight and married me. You just never know.

3.  Do you think the two-party system is irrevocably entrenched in American politics, or do you think an evolutionary step is possible?  Can your ideals be adequately represented within the framework of the current system?

Yes it’s entrenched, but that doesn’t mean the parties won’t reverse themselves or morph or be replaced by a third party. Historically, you have one party that favors economic control and social freedom, one that favors social control and economic freedom: I don’t see that changing. Still, there comes a time when our political discourse is so divisive that it takes an independent character to accomplish anything.

I’d love to see Sam Waterston’s efforts to get Mike Bloomberg into the White House come to fruition. I’m not sure it’s in the Democrat’s best interest to inherit the shitstorm that Bush has created anyway, and I don’t want another Republican. How great would it be to have a third party empty history’s septic tank?

4.  I know you to be a superstitious person.  I also know that you prize logic.  How do you balance these seemingly contradictory impulses?  To what do you ascribe your superstitions?

Wow. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who prizes logic. I prize logic!  I’m sticking with that, and anybody who asks me is going to hear about it.

First off, I know that I’m insane. So that’s how I balance these seemingly contradictory impulses: I tell myself, “Christ, Penny, you’re a whack job.” And then I take my happy pill, make a mental note to mention this to my talking doctor, and move on.  It’s a weakness I try to mask, on account of all you have to do is make up a superstition and like that I’m buying into it. I attribute this to my Catholic upbringing. Catholics emphasize the cause and effect of seemingly disparate events: you ate meat on Friday; God got you canned from your job. It’s only a short jump from this logic to believing that picking up a heads-up penny can affect your next 24 hours.

So I have abandoned Catholicism in favor of lucky pennies. Less guilt, more fun.

5.  If you were to unleash your dark side and completely disengage from society’s rules, what would be your crime and who would be your victim? (The masochist in me kinda wants to be your answer to number five...!) Enjoy.

I would grab Spazmo, steal whatever car Tapestry-of-Passion is craving at the moment, then head across the country for a crime spree. We would steal whatever we wanted and live like pirates. Occasionally I’d have to kill blow-tard bigots and rich valley girls with a pretty silver gun I had custom-made for me. I would let them out of cages and shoot them in the ass as they ran. Hey, you asked. Anything I wanted at Sephora/Barnes and Noble, I would just take. I’d butter my toast with illegal Russian caviar. When in Stubby’s neighborhood, I would whip him good for not coming round lately and making me worry. Does he deserve it? Probably not, but I’d enjoy giving the whipping. And I’d totally feed the pigeons. And the squirrels and all the cute fuzzy creatures that I wish I could pay to be my friends.

I don’t think you’d want to get shot or anything, but if you’d like I could spank you while passing through Oregon. I would spank Spazmo silly everytime he did the “baby voice” so I’d be in good practice.