 He has another novel, Go Songs, which will be published this year by Harmony, Inc. Press. Please welcome Andrew Demchak. Okay, hello. And I wanted to say too, if you like the stuff that you hear tonight, they actually have some of my books here at the library that are in right now and you can actually check them out if you have a San Francisco Public Library card, so you don't have to buy my stuff. You can check it out. Support your libraries. I'm a librarian. It's awesome. All right. I'm going to read a little section from my new YA novel, Go Songs, which just came out. I've never written a YA book before and I was really excited. Anyway, Harmony Press is really awesome and I love them. This is told from the point of view of this kid named Todd and he's a 14-year-old musical prodigy and he's a gay kid and he plays flute, of course. Anyway, this is just a little embarrassing scene that happens to him after he's been out with his friend Jennifer at her 14th birthday party and they come back to Jennifer's parents' house with Jennifer's older sister Katie and their older brother. Anyway, this is this part. By 10 p.m., Jennifer's parents retreated to their bedroom in the farthest part of the house, way in the back with their scotch and sodas. Jennifer and I sat with Katie, Jennifer's older sister and Mark, who's the boyfriend of Katie, Roger, Jennifer's older brother and a stoner date Mandy on the thickly upholstered leather couches in their sunken living room. At the very center, yawned a modern fire pit which now sat dormant beneath its aluminum vent, like a sleeping volcano ready to burst into flames at any minute. We were watching Dressed to Kill, oh that's another thing, this takes place in 1982, so that's why this is going to seem strangely archaic. We were watching Dressed to Kill on select TV, the cable movie channel that came through a black box that sat beside their brand new front projection TV set, which was one of the coolest things I'd ever seen. Can you get hard, Mandy suddenly asked me in front of everyone as she brushed back her dark brown Farrah Fawcett hairdo with two quick swipes of a rat-tailed comb. What, I gasped, staring down at the fire pit, too embarrassed to look up at her or anyone, a long deafening pause stretched out between us. Of course he can, Mark suddenly answered for me, you can get hard when you're a little kid. I just wondered, you know, he looks so young. Mandy continued as she produced a ceramic pipe, yellow lighter and a small ziplock bag that contained a few shriveled green buds. Who wants to get high? Her second question went unanswered as the pipe began its journey from mouth to mouth around the room, leaving a smoky trail in the midair, like a long gray scarf. Jennifer and I sipped our grenadine sweetened Coca-Cola's and watched. You want a shotgun? Mark asked me, as if I knew what he was talking about. Everyone laughed except Jennifer and me. I didn't want to seem like an uncool kid, so I answered yes. Of course I'd seen Eddie, which is his mother, smoking pot before tons of times, but I never wanted to try it. That would be like giving into her, like she had won. Before I could change my mind, Mark had moved over onto the couch next to me, the scent of his cologne mixed with the marijuana smell, exciting and dangerous. The big lighter snapped beneath his thumb and he took a drag from the shiny pipe. To my complete surprise, he grabbed the back of my head, placed his warm lips on mind and blew a huge breath of smoke into my lungs. I coughed and pushed him away, both flattered and ashamed by his attentions. Everybody laughed at me again. I realized this must be a pastime of people their age, getting kids high. It was about as funny as getting a dog or cat stoned. The taste of his saliva and the burning weed lingered in my mouth. My throat immediately hurt. A moment later, the same thing happened to Jennifer, who seemed a little bit cooler about it, since she knew what was coming. It felt like no time had passed, but the couples began to pair off. Lank arms wrapping wastes and shoulders. They stood and made their ways to their bedrooms. I looked at Jennifer. She gave me the signal with her eyes that we should evacuate. I got up. Jennifer followed me out of the living room and we ran down the hallway to her room giggling loudly. Tonight, I had a feeling Eddie had abandoned me there. She always forgot to pick me up. It was Friday night after all. Eddie painted the town red after work on Fridays, which meant hanging around the dingy bar at the Red Onion, our local Mexican restaurant. She did this every week. The Vanderlips had no problem with letting me spend the night whenever Eddie forgot me. I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor of Jennifer's room. I only lived about five miles away, but they wouldn't let me walk home at night in the dark. And more strangely, never once offered to drive me home. Never. Mark's really nice. Yeah. I can see why Katie likes him. Do you feel stoned yet? I don't know. What's it supposed to feel like? You'll know. You've smoked pop before, right? I asked, sure that Jennifer had. Not really. But I guess I'm 14 now, so I'm old enough. I've seen them do it so many times. Believe me, you'll know when you're stoned. I thought about telling Jennifer about Eddie's pot smoking, but I wasn't sure what she would think. Better wait for another opportunity, just in case. Should we get ready for the munchies? There are Doritos in the kitchen. I'll go get them. Wait here, I told Jennifer. I wanted to be away from her right then anyway. I was feeling a little paranoid because I couldn't tell if I was stoned or not. I found my way to the spotless kitchen and discovered Mark was there already, poking around in the pantry closet. He must have had the same idea. Mark was very handsome, broad-chested and tall, with curly, soft brown hair. He wore a tangerine-colored robe that belonged to Katie, so I figured Katie and he had just been or about to go out into the jacuzzi in the back patio. He turned to face me as he heard me enter the kitchen. Hey, buddy. Hey, I answered him blandly. Do you have the munchies? Yeah, I think so. You think so? Yeah, we wanted to get the Doritos. OK, then here you go. Mark said as he tossed me a bag from the cabinet he was searching through. The bag made a loud crinkling sound when I caught it. As he continued rummaging through the shelves again, his robe parted up the front, and I saw he was naked. My heart skipped a beat, and I stood glued to the spot. I had never been so close to an unclothed, fully grown man. I didn't know what to do. I knew Mark was bisexual, but what did that mean anyway? I felt completely awkward just standing there, not speaking. And in any moment, he probably noticed that I was what I was looking at. But before I could say or do anything, he idly tugged his robe back over himself, just like that. The shining moment ended. Good night, I said, as I retreated, bag in hand from the kitchen, the crotch of my pants rising embarrassingly. So that's poor Todd. He's kind of a naive kid. And anyway, really strange things happened to him. And he has a friendly ghost. So it's kind of an interesting story. This next one I'm going to read is for my first novel. And it's called If There's Heaven Above, which is that Love and Rocket song, which I love. And this is all about the goth scene in Los Angeles in the 80s. The three characters in this are Matt, who's the lead character. And he's, well, he's just sort of this 18-year-old club kid, and his friend Susie, who's a lesbian, and then their friend Annie, who's kind of like, maybe she's a lesbian, maybe she's not. I don't know. So she's kind of like in between. But this is a scene where they're waiting outside the club that they go to called The Scream, which was a real club in Los Angeles. And they're waiting for Anya, who's Susie's girlfriend. And this is what happens. We turned the corner and went back one block to regal liquor. There was a row of newspaper stalls next to the entrance. We stepped into the thin yellow light of the store. On our left was an ice cream freezer covered with blue bunny product stickers. To our right were various narrow aisles filled with boxes of dry goods past their expiration dates. Baby food, bags of Doritos, strange racks of off-brand greeting cards, and the beer and wine section. Susie came towards the Algerian man at the register, the bottles of cheap booze lining the shelves behind him. Good evening, pretty miss. Can I help you? He greeted her. Yes, I'd like a fifth of vodka right there, Susie said, pointing down. The $7.99 one? No, the one right there, $5.99. Will that be all? I'd also like a pack of Marlboro Reds. When Susie ordered things, she seemed so sophisticated. Andy and I were jealous of how smoothly she broke the law tonight. She was always calm and poised. They never even checked her ID, never. When she flirted, men would eat shit out of her hand. There was something aloof and irresistible about her, her solid cheekbones, her blue eyes, and platinum blonde hair, her slim figure, that untouchable size seven. Susie paid and grabbed the small bag, and we headed back to the car. We followed her like searchlights, beaming. No more than 25 feet from Regal Licker, we ran into the friendly black guy we saw every week, who liked to talk to us very much and always tried to sell us stolen items. Hey there, my darlings, he said, smiling in a buttoning a raggedy flannel jacket. Look at this ring, it's practically new. And for you, Blondie, it's only 20 bucks. We just spent all our money at the liquor store, really. You say that every week. You gotta bring some more money with you. Here, look at this, he said, pulling out a gold watch and looking right at me. When I was breaking into those people's house last night, I kept thinking, hey, he would like this watch. Man, I stole this for you. Do you have any money? If you found us before we went to the liquor store, we could talk business, I said. It's not that we don't appreciate what you're doing, Annie added, fumbling. It's just that we don't have that much money. Do you want a cigarette? Susie asked, reaching into the brown paper bag. Thank you very much. The black man leaned over to me and whispered out of earshot of both Annie and Susie. You know I love the ladies, but I like some of the boys, too. Susie banged the Marlboro box against her palm to pack the cigarettes. She handed the black guy one and pulled the lighter out of her pocket and lit it. As he leaned into the flame, I could see how bloodshot his eyes were in the butane light. He took a jeep drag to get the cigarette going and leaned back, exhaling. We had learned the secret early. You make friends with the local monsters. This guy was harmless enough though, just a cat burglar. We had talked to him enough to know he'd never tried to force us to buy anything and he was usually amused to talk to us, three weird looking white people. And now I knew that he had taken a shine to me. See around, he said. The end of his cigarette glowing as he exited down the side alley, puffs of smoke trailing behind him like footprints in the still air. I feel so sorry for that man, Annie confessed as we started walking. Hey, he's just trying to make a living. Same as you and me, Susie pointed out and lit her own cigarette. Anyway, maybe we'll buy something from him sometime. You have to admit, his prices are reasonable. With that, we were almost back at Susie's Mustang. One of the great features of her car was the shape of the metal seatbelt fasteners. We always forgot to bring beer bottle opener with us on the nights we had beer bottles of beer and we used the seat belts to pry the bottle caps. Susie unlocked her car door and let us in. We drank in her car every week, parked in the same places and we were never disturbed by the police. I shifted into the fold of the back seat. It was my turn to christen the vodka bottle. Last week had been Annie's turn. Susie removed the brown bag and crumbled it on the floor. I took the bottle and twisted the red plastic cap off and sniffed the sugar smelling liquor. I pressed the cold glass to my lips, the vodka filling my mouth with the burning sweetness. I gulped it down and shook my head. God, that's nasty, I squealed, passing the bottle to Annie. For the next 30 minutes, the bottle would circle counterclockwise around the car to Annie in the passenger seat, then to Susie on the driver's side and then back to me. Where the hell is Anya? I asked, watching Annie take a swig of vodka. Who cares? I've had it with her tonight. Did she say she was definitely coming? Ask Annie, handing the half empty bottle to Susie? Of course. You know, Anya is pretty stupid, Annie said bluntly. Like that time, her sister Claire's boa constrictor got loose in their house. Remember, they looked for it everywhere. It was gone for like three months. And Anya found it beneath the bathroom sink. That poor thing was so hungry, kept striking at her. So Anya got out the vacuum cleaner and put the nozzle attachment on it and tried to suck it up. That's so crazy. She could have killed that snake. I mean, that vacuum's got all those bristles turning inside of it. That snake would in there, it'd be chopped to bits. But what about when Anya was eating all that bran? I began. That super diet she was on to clean out her system. She had to go to the doctor because she was so constipated after a week of eating nothing but those stupid muffins. Remember how puzzled she was? I know, I know. Did I tell you about when I was at Anya's after she found that rabbit in the desert? Susie giggled? No, what rabbit? Well, you know how Anya does really strange things for no reason at all? Really, she does, I said. Susie looked coldly at me and then continued. Well, anyway, she found this bunny up at Joshua Tree National Forest and somehow she caught it. It was living somewhere in her room under the bed or in her closet. I was up in Santa Monica and I stopped by to visit her one night. Her neighbor across the alley was being really loud. His windows were open and he was screaming at someone. Anya and I were fooling around on her bed with the lights off and we decided to throw something at this guy's windows to shut him up. So Anya and I were on our hands and knees by her window feeling around in the dark for something to throw. I found these pebbles near their bookcase and I grabbed a handful and threw them out the window at the neighbors. I did this for about five minutes. When we got up and turned the lights on, I discovered it was rabbit shit I was throwing. That is totally gross, Annie's grunt. Yeah, but I can't help laughing at her sometimes, Susie said, staring ahead at the lights along the deserted boulevard. She probably just forgot to show up tonight, I said, finishing the thought we had all started earlier. The vodka bottle had about two more inches left and each of us was feeling drunk, just sitting down. I knew if I stood up, I was going to stumble around. At that moment, a green Chevy Malibu swerved to its right and smashed loudly into the car parked a few feet ahead of us. Jesus, H Christ, Susie screamed. We stared blankly as the driver's brake lights lit. He put the car into reverse and he tried to back up and get away. His bumper was stuck on the other car's fender. As he tried to back up, the crushing metal made a horrible noise. There was no one else on the street, car or person. We were the only witnesses. Get his license number, I shouted. Annie scrambled into the glove compartment for a pen and some paper. It's RWZ 764, Susie said. I got it, Annie said, scribbling down on the back of an envelope from the auto club. The Malibu finally dislodged itself, put itself in gear and sped off into the night. The rear of the parked car was flattened. The left brake light shattered, red bits of plastic scattered on the ground under the hanging bumper. Could you believe that guy? People are such assholes. He probably didn't have insurance. Who can afford it anymore, Susie said. I'd probably do the same thing in his shoes. We sank into silence and sipped the vodka. 15 minutes passed. Could you roll down your window? It's getting hot in here, I asked Annie. Yeah, Annie cracked the window about halfway. A car hushed by in the street, a bunch of gang bangers cruising by. The street lights glinted off the twisted metal of the parked car in front of us. Just then, the crisp sound of high heels could be heard, clicking over our shoulders to the right of the car. Two girls in black tight dresses strutted by. They looked like scream goers. At once, the taller one of the girls dropped her purse onto the cold sidewalk and rushed up to the smashed car right in front of us. She threw her hands up, her friend coming up to her side. They inspected the damage to the bumper, hanging like a frown. Oh my God, it's her car, Annie said. Quick, get out and tell them we got the guy's license. Yeah, she looks so pissed off. Susie checked her mirror and got out to the left. Annie and I emerged on the right. Annie held the envelope in her hand like a Valentine. Shit, shit, shit, the tall girl screamed and paced behind her car. Hey you guys, Susie shouted at the girls. We saw the guy who hit your car and wrote down his license. Are you serious? The girl responded. Yeah, here it is. Oh my God, cool, she said, her anger fading like lipstick on a shirt collar. The taller girl walked over to the sidewalk and picked up a two by four lying near the chain link fence. She turned and walked to the car again and began slamming the board onto the trunk, denting it even more and smashing the other brake light. What the hell are you doing, I asked. I wanna get more insurance money, she said, pounding away. Do you guys wanna help me? Okay, Susie said and began kicking the fender until it dropped off completely. We were all really drunk. Up close, I saw the car was a BMW. I went over and grabbed a large rock from the scrub grass and slammed it down on the back window, the glittering crack spreading across it like a spider web. The tall girl's friend picked up the bumper and brought it down hard on the top of the car. Within minutes, we were all laughing, totalling the car. Annie was beating the back of it with her purse. Hey, let me go get the vodka, Annie shouted and she ran back to our car and got the bottle. The vodka gurgled as we swallowed it down, the last of it with our new friends. It was a frenzy of loud metallic banging, drinking and hysterical laughter. The cars that passed took no notice as if this happened every day in downtown Los Angeles. It was like an elaborate fertility dance. I'd switch places with the tall girl, she with her friend or with Susie. We circled the car for about 10 minutes denting and cracking it. It was a complete wreck after we had finished. The tall girl dropped the two by four loudly on the asphalt and walked over to the sidewalk. Her friend joined her. We continued over and sat against the chain link fence. The sky was dark with no stars between the shapes of the skyscrapers. The sweat poured off of me in thin rivulets. Each of us had felt a tremendous rush. What's your name anyway? I asked the tall girl. Chuli, like Pachuli. And this is my friend, Diva. Thank you. Thanks, Andrew.