Nowheresville

A Christmas Story

Thirty years ago, while I was still riding high in Hollywood working on commericals as a gaffer, I read Permanent Midnight, Jerry Stahl’s grimly funny and occasionally horrifying memoir of living in LA while working as a writer for a variety of publications — and eventually, several big league television shows. Like many in the fading light of the last century, he struggled with drugs, but unlike some, Jerry lived to tell the tale … and it’s quite a story.

“Permanent Midnight” was a good read, so when I saw he was scheduled to be on a panel of writers discussing their work for the reading public, I went: and there he was, dressed in black, every bit as dark and moody as the cover of his book.

He did not look happy to be there, but such is the nature of the publishing beast. Writing is generally a solitary endeavor, but you’ve gotta sell books to make a living, which means getting out in public to convince or remind people why they should buy your book.

I don’t remember who the other writers were, or what Jerry said when it was his turn at the podium — hey, it was thirty years ago — but that was the last I saw or heard of him until this week, when I stumbled upon this — titled “A Christmas Story” — while wandering the aisles of Substack. Sure enough, it was Jerry Stahl, and the posts in “Nowheresville” reveal that he’s still as observant and darkly funny as ever. Most of us lose a step or two in the transition from young up-and-comer to the paunchy despair of late middle age, but his blade is still as sharp as a well-honed Katana.

“Nowheresville” may or may not be your cup of literary tea, but I like it. Take a look and see what you think — and have yourselves a Merry Little Christmas!