A LETTER TO THE EDITOR
The April 2, 2009 issue of 'Las Vegas Weekly' featured a piece on my novel entitled, "FIVE RANDOM PASSAGES FROM HORSE LATITUDES, BY LOCAL NOVELIST QUENTIN R. BUFOGLE".
The passages were selected by the magazine's staff (randomly) and featured such highlights as: Chester Sprockett ogling the breasts of a topless sunbather with the aid of a telescope (something we've all done at one time or another); an obscure reference to a monkey (taken totally out of context), and a poignant scene where Chester ends his sordid affair with a waitress at a luncheonette by telling her he has the clap and is moving to Greenland. Pretty much standard stuff. I sent the following letter to the magazine's head honcho, Scott Dickensheets, in response . . .
Dear Mr. Dickensheets:
Just wanna thank you for running your recent feature on my novel. I was pleasantly surprised to see the piece, especially after the initial cold-shoulder I received (oh, let's call a spade a spade; you dissed me Scott). But I felt if there was a place in your pantheon of culture for 'A Stripper's Guide to Szechuan Cooking,' or 'Twilight, the Audio Book, as read by Lisa Lampanelli,' then certainly there was room for a book about a guy who checks out young ladies' cans with a telescope.
Apparently some of your readers concur, since the piece on HL made #9 on your "What's Hot" list; #8 on "Most Discussed", and an astonishing #4 on "Most E-Mailed." Thought you'd like to know what all this notoriety has garnered for me personally. Well, let's just say it's been a wild ride:
-- Horse Latitudes has soared to just under 160,000 in the Amazon.com book sales rankings (outranking 'The Red Badge of Courage' and 'Newark on $20 a Day').
-- I've received over a dozen nude pics via e-mail (some from women).
-- An invitation to join the Aryan Nation, tho didn't make the cut due to a questionable tattoo -- a portrait of Charles Nelson Riley -- the result of a drunken tequila binge. (Who knew there was a dress code?)
-- And a fan letter from Paris Hilton who thinks I'm Quentin Tarantino.
In light of this, I'm currently hard at work on my new novel: the haunting story of the star-crossed romance of a popular high school quarterback/werewolf and his perky cheerleader girlfriend. (The relationship ultimately fails when he comes down with the mange and she becomes a strict vegan.)
Hey, if ya can't beat 'em join 'em.
Thanks loads -- Quentin
The passages were selected by the magazine's staff (randomly) and featured such highlights as: Chester Sprockett ogling the breasts of a topless sunbather with the aid of a telescope (something we've all done at one time or another); an obscure reference to a monkey (taken totally out of context), and a poignant scene where Chester ends his sordid affair with a waitress at a luncheonette by telling her he has the clap and is moving to Greenland. Pretty much standard stuff. I sent the following letter to the magazine's head honcho, Scott Dickensheets, in response . . .
Dear Mr. Dickensheets:
Just wanna thank you for running your recent feature on my novel. I was pleasantly surprised to see the piece, especially after the initial cold-shoulder I received (oh, let's call a spade a spade; you dissed me Scott). But I felt if there was a place in your pantheon of culture for 'A Stripper's Guide to Szechuan Cooking,' or 'Twilight, the Audio Book, as read by Lisa Lampanelli,' then certainly there was room for a book about a guy who checks out young ladies' cans with a telescope.
Apparently some of your readers concur, since the piece on HL made #9 on your "What's Hot" list; #8 on "Most Discussed", and an astonishing #4 on "Most E-Mailed." Thought you'd like to know what all this notoriety has garnered for me personally. Well, let's just say it's been a wild ride:
-- Horse Latitudes has soared to just under 160,000 in the Amazon.com book sales rankings (outranking 'The Red Badge of Courage' and 'Newark on $20 a Day').
-- I've received over a dozen nude pics via e-mail (some from women).
-- An invitation to join the Aryan Nation, tho didn't make the cut due to a questionable tattoo -- a portrait of Charles Nelson Riley -- the result of a drunken tequila binge. (Who knew there was a dress code?)
-- And a fan letter from Paris Hilton who thinks I'm Quentin Tarantino.
In light of this, I'm currently hard at work on my new novel: the haunting story of the star-crossed romance of a popular high school quarterback/werewolf and his perky cheerleader girlfriend. (The relationship ultimately fails when he comes down with the mange and she becomes a strict vegan.)
Hey, if ya can't beat 'em join 'em.
Thanks loads -- Quentin
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