autoaggrandization

When I was a toddler I once witnessed a dancer hold a cocaine-encrusted cigar up to the sunbeams falling through the skylight. I saw it glitter before a background of exposed bricks and pipes.

Just kidding!!

I feel dumb not being more “open” on this blog, with an “about” paragraph floating in the upper-right with something to the effect of “Hello, my name is Quentin Levy. This is my personal website. I’m a freelance librarian living in a mouldy duplex in Pleasanton, Calif., with my girlfriend, Betty Richter, and Jean-Luc Pouncey, our pet ferret. I’m the author of Thesis Mountain, a young-adult novel about an anthropomorphized, learning-disabled copy of the Partisan Review accused of rape in a small Midwestern town. Purchase it on Amazon here.” But I won’t because I want to be able to make off-color “erotica” jokes that don’t reflect the views of anyone at all, including myself. And you can’t do that with your name attached to it…? Even if it’s fiction? Because then you get fired?

I wrote a short story — flash-fiction-style — called “Child Pornography,” which was “accepted” by the Fanzine! Then I freaked out that in ten years I would be applying for a job tutoring toddlers in Language Arts and the administrators would autogoogle me by looking at my hands (that’s how you google people in the future, just look at their hands) and my first hit would be this gem of my juvenalia, the short story “Child Pornography,” and I wouldn’t get the job, which is a volunteer position anyway, and my family would be devastated. So I asked the Fanzine to change the title to “Erotica Without Borders.” That didn’t work so I changed it to “Teen Sex.” They published it as “Teen Porn.” OK. Here is the URL for the story:

That’s all for now! I miss California, even though I’m sitting in a chair in California.