Caleb J Ross Does Not Have a Beard

It was his name that first grabbed me. Caleb J Ross. Here was a guy who sounded like he was already someplace, higher up the social ladder, or sitting atop some magical literary tree we all so desperately wanted to shimmy. He was established before he became known. I was impressed, but I had reservations. I have this thing about names, you see. And beards. If a person has a cool name, or a decent beard, I gravity to them assuming they’re an artiste, a unique oddity that may have the one thing that will change my life. My theory has yet to be proved true. Caleb J Ross doesn’t have a beard. But if he did, I would have probably wanted to know what shirt he wears, his shoes, so at the very least I buy a pair just like him. But I don’t like what Caleb wears. He’s too casual; t-shirt, hoodie, jeans… he dresses like a man who spends his time doing other things than walking the Mall, shopping for G-Star and anti-fit jeans. No, Caleb isn’t a fashion icon. He doesn’t have a beard. He doesn’t sing. He doesn’t do anything much, but what he does, he does well. Caleb J Ross is a writer, and man, he can write.

I was grouped with him in a writer’s workshop. He had a novel he was working on. I had started Dog Mile. The name of his novel was one word (I won’t mention it in case it’s changed or he sues me for liable – American’s have a habit of doing that). I had to look up the word. This pissed me off. Nonetheless, his prose grabbed me by the bollocks and didn’t let go. He was one of the first fledging writers I found that had the capacity to say something. Sure, there are a lot of writers out there that can write. They can string a sentence or two together and make it sound pretty. But most are coasting through the narrative, falling back on a few well-observed social reflections, perhaps a beautifully crafted sentence every now and then, but rarely do they say anything. Caleb had that potential. I never finished the novel. I dropped out of the workshop due to family issues at the time. Not too sure if Caleb even finished the novel, or if it now sits under his bed gathering dust, or its sheets act as a cradle for which a stray, hardened sock rests upon at night. But over the years I have seen Caleb’s popularity grow and grow. He has completed several novels and seen them published; from Stranger Will to Charactered Pieces, to I didn’t Mean to Be Kevin, to As a Machine and Parts. He is one of only a few authors I don’t need to worry about. He is a few boughs away from the top of that literary tree, and I know it won’t be long before he’s looking down on us all, probably with his balls on show.

Today he uploaded a video review of Quintessence of Dust. He’s being doing these reviews for a while, and it’s fucking annoying how good he is at doing them, and in turn, promoting himself and gathering a steady and loyal stream of viewers. This pisses me off too. In truth, I think I secretly I hate the guy because he’s too damn good at everything he does. Except that is growing a beard, or buying clothes. Nevertheless, here’s a link to the review.

http://www.calebjross.com/other-write...

When you’re done with all that, pop over to his site. Fall in love with him. Buy his book/s. Talk about him over coffee and remember his name, because it is a name that cleaves. http://www.calebjross.com/