As you know, I am a celebrated novelist whose books have spent over 3,000 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list.
That said, I am currently beginning my newest novel after making my proposal to my publishers at Random House and receiving a $6 trillion dollar advance as well as a contract giving me 562 percent of the gross profits. This is one of the primary reasons I write. It is just so damned lucrative that only a fool would take less than 12 figures for writing a novel. Crazy what some assholes will settle for due to being afflicted with a disease called "the dumb." The ball is in your court.
This latest novel by me (celebrated six time Nobel Peace Prize winning author Berhardt Illych Goats) is entitled Nest of Nudity and it is primarily about a place where people go and sit around naked talking about things. This place is for all intents and purposes fashioned to look like a giant bird's nest. This makes the nude socialization just that much more interesting. I would say it already sounds like a great read to me.
Because this is what is referred to as a closed membership club (although that term is not used in the book), membership is limited to straight white men of a certain ilk, those who strongly believe in breaking and yoking the lower classes and turning them into an effective workforce by robbing them daily of feelings of self-worth and pushing them mentally to a place they can never return from. Ibid.
Now, some of the storyline is derived from my real life experiences, which are legion. I enjoy being in a nest-like structure with other straight white men while naked. It is a thing, which is pointed out in my book. The nest is a thing and needs to be treated as such. In this day and age it is sickening how many people refuse to accept this very basic fact. It gives me consternation on a daily basis. It really does.
The bulk of the novel will be similar to a collection of episodes of the classic television show, The Love Boat, which had a great run at one time, but then it was RIPPED off the television by the fucking liberal hordes and replaced with mindless crap about this and that, things no one gives a shit about. But that is another story. I don't really get into that in this novel, but I did write about it in my Grammy Winning 1987 novel, The Fucking Liberals Took The Love Boat Off Fucking Television. This was, not suprisingly, at the top of the New York Times Bestseller List for 16 weeks in late 1987 through early 1988, which earned me my first coveted Grammy Award. What a year for me that was, and oddly enough it was also the first time in my life (or at least since 1945) that I lived in a country where the head of the country was more confused than I generally am.
The book starts out by giving the parameters of the nest to the reader in some detail, BUT with some details LEFT OUT! What a great twist, as we will learn later when we find out that the bottom of the nest is made entirely of white birch bark instead of twigs, leaves, and brambles. What a revelation! It changes the course of the novel in so many ways.
Now, one of the other requirements for being in the nest with other straight white men of a certain ilk is that you be toilet trained. I don't know how many of you are toilet trained straight white men of a certain ilk, but if you are, and if this club were real instead of part of my novel, this would be something you could get involved with. Just something to think about. It is an interesting thought. No one can deny that because it is FACT and you can't monkey around with facts. It just isn't done.
We are introduced to our main character in the first chapter. His name is Ted and he is what is referred to as a wrangler. His job is to go out looking for straight white men of a certain ilk who might be interested in being naked with him inside a nest-like structure. He does this by going out to various bars and clubs and asking a lot of intrusive questions of the people he runs into. We also learn that another wrangler from another nest-like structure is ultimately responsible for the behavior of the famous Woody Allen. As the story goes, this wrangler ran into Woody at a Hollywood party and began asking him intrusive questions to try to determine if he was the kind of man who he could convince to get into the nest with him after removing all of his clothing. One of the questions he asked was, "Do you watch Married With Children?" And Woody misunderstood and thought he said "Wouldn't you like to marry children?" And the rest, they say, is history.
Anyway, that is only alluded to in the novel, but it does help show the storied history of these "nudity nests." Good stuff.
We have our first dramatic moment of tension in the book when Ted is out at a bar and he sits down next to a man who resists his questions and instead turns the tables and begins asking Ted intrusive questions. This is such an amazing plot twist. Wholly remarkable, I'd say. And so, here is Ted, bewildered by this turn of events and not knowing what to do. How do you handle a situation like this? You lure the person outside and give him a beat down. It only makes sense.
So, what Ted does is pretend he's had too much to drink and asks this guy with the intrusive questions if he'll help him outside and hail a cab for him. When the intrusive man agrees and they get outside, Ted reveals he is not drunk at all and pistol whips the man right there in front of the bar for God and alcoholics to see. Good stuff.
We continue to follow Ted's adventures, and in each chapter we see him go out looking to wrangle straight white men of a certain ilk who might entertain the idea of being naked in a nest-like structure with other straight white men of a certain ilk. They all start out that way, and then we see the dramatic interplay of the newcomer with the characters we've gotten to know in the previous chapters. Those straight white men of a certain ilk become part of the whole nudity nest culture and become one with their chosen nesting grounds, i.e. they are still in the nest when the next straight white man is wrangled. It becomes a kind of brotherhood, although it can clearly be argued that it isn't really that at all.
This sort of thing carries us through the first 2/3 of the novel, and then we get a conflict. Some working class slobs are staging some kind of protest because they are opposed to being forced to work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, in a 19th century textile mill (which is at one point referred to jokingly by men who are in the nest as a testicle mill - hilarious stuff). The men rise up from the nudity nest and spring into action after quickly throwing on nice suits. The end result is, as they say, quite predictable. This lends a strong sensation of realism to the book, almost like you are watching the news on television instead of reading a novel.
I don't want to reveal the dramatic conclusion, but I will say that it offers a twist that NO ONE will expect. I'm now looking forward to writing it.
Look for it at booksellers who sell Random House books next year.