a strange life / Jean Pierre Consuegra / 2024
Hello.
Time has gotten away from me this week.
And with time, so has any attempt at writing anything of substance to start this newsletter. Don’t despair (you were starting to despair) there are hundreds of other words to follow this excuse-made-paragraph.
Including: A new edition of Just Talkin’ with the one and only Lauren C. Johnson. She’s got a new book out in Spring 2026 and she’s (just) talking about it and her influences and a million reasons why you should pre-order the hell out of it now.
Anyways, read on, uh, readers.
things we’re doing
Heidi Kasa reviews Wendy M. Thompson’s Black California Gold
Heidi Kasa returns for another powerful, dare I say, inspiring review this time of the new poetry collection from Wendy M. Thompson. Kasa brings this slim, beautifully packaged set of poetry into this current moment, and to the context of “poetry of witness” in total. The collection? Incredible. The review? Equally so.
Anu Khosla interviews Kristina Ten (Tell Me Yours, I’ll Tell You Mine)
Kristina Ten’s fantastic, short horror fiction has been released upon the world. Reading it is decidedly worth your time and attention. Anu Khosla interviewed Ten about Tell Me Yours, I’ll Tell You Mine and, as is anything Khosla writers, also well worth your time.
recent posts
Tomas Moniz interviews A. M. Sosa (And I’ll Take Your Eyes Out)
My first trip to America in four years and friend invites me to play golf in the desert / Nathaniel Cairney
still reading
Tchaikovsky is a writer who is extremely prolific (Shroud is one of five books he’s publishing this year) but still manages to create thoughtful, beautifully written fantasy and sci-fi. Shroud is no different. I’m 80 pages from the end, but this hallucinogenic travelogue of two people trying to survive on a planet seemingly hell bent on killing them is both endlessly inventive and endlessly enjoyable. I’ll say more when I’ve finally, begrudgingly, put it down.
we like songs
This edition of the column should be called “artists who I haven’t liked previously but now I do.”
Hand Habits first album was too simple for my taste. Hand Habits second album is a touch more layered and I am obsessed.
The Field / Blood Orange ft. The Durutti Column, Tariq Al-Sabir, Caroline Polachek & Daniel Caesar
Blood Orange is one of those musicians I keep wanting to like but haven’t really put in the effort. His newest, Vivid Light, is softly electronic and beautifully catchy.
Float / Jay Som ft. Jim Adkins
Just low-key, very listenable dream pop. It feels, dare I say, twinkly.
Long Island City Here I Come / Geese
I will keep reminding you that the new Geese album is very good and that you, a listener of very good things, should listen to it.
Stay In Your Lane / Courtney Barnett
Kind of discordant, kind of thrashy, kind of awesome.
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All the, uh, songs, we (I) like are … here?
Night of the Creeps, d. Fred Dekker
It’s almost Halloween and I’ve been deep in the bag of horror flicks old and new. Night of the Creeps is a cult classic, one of two films made by Monster Squad’s Fred Dekker, and a heaping spoonful of homage to creature features of the 1950s. It is, as these 80s horror romps go, pretty fucking great. A delightful balance of the dumb, the gory, and the, surprisingly, touching. Also, Rusty from European Vacation is in it and he is once again, against all logic, able to find success on the dating circuit.
Clown in a Cornfield, d. Eli Craig
The title says everything. Do you want to watch a film about a (scary) clown in a (also scary) cornfield? Well, Eli Craig has made that film. And it is, with enough weed in your system, a fun ride.
Masterpiece. Nearly 3 hours of movie about the procedural investigation behind the infamous Zodiac murders that still somehow rips. An absolute classic. The highbrow horror film you need this holiday season.
Lauren C. Johnson is both a dear friend and the Interviews Editor for The Racket. She is also an incredible writer. Her debut novel, The West Facade (SFWP, 2026), is about two statues outside of Notre Dame who come to life. Why did she write a book about living statues? Where did the inspiration come from? What is she even reading these days? We asked, she answered.
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Where does the love of writing about statues come from?
Statues have always scared me a little bit. One in particular scared me from a very young age— this bust of a woman wearing an old-timey bonnet that was my mom’s since the early 80s. She’s had this thing since before I was born, and to my mom, it’s just a decoration or tchotchke, but to me, it’s the kind of object that haunts your nightmares. When I was very little, I was convinced it came to life at night, turned its head, and looked around the room.
But fine, I’ll admit it: It’s the reason why statues have captivated my imagination since I was very young. I’m certain that whenever I inherit my mom’s belongings, I’ll keep the damn thing, and it’ll become a beloved possession that accompanies me throughout my life, too.
What were the influences you pulled from while writing The West Façade?
So many because it took me such a long time to write this book. First, the Notre-Dame Cathedral itself completely captivated my imagination. From the moment I first saw the cathedral, I became enthralled with its statuary. The saints and angels are so imposing — and to the point above — a bit frightening. If they were alive, what would they think? Could we come to understand them and befriend them? Would they want to protect us, or would they be so busy carrying on with their own existences and dramas that they wouldn’t care about us at all?
The West Façade is a fairy tale, so at a subconscious level, I was deeply influenced by the fairy tales I grew up with. Everything by the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson. Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy is one of my earliest influences. The books that inspired me as I was actively writing include Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni, Madeline Miller’s Circe, Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber, and Piranesi by Susana Clarke. I also adored The Pisces by Melissa Broder — the setting is nothing like The West Façade’s, but reading that book helped me give myself permission to write into the experimental, obsessive, and unhinged.
Film and music also offered endless wells to draw inspiration from. Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth and Pinocchio represent the moody atmosphere I aspired to create, in addition to the meditations they offer on mortality and death. I also adore Matteo Garrone’s campy Tale of Tales. As a kid, I watched Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas more times than I can count, and I’m pretty sure Sally the doll got into my head as I was creating the statue of Saint Geneviéve. More recently, Yorgos Lanthimos’ Poor Things was an influence. I also listened to a lot of dark wave while I wrote. I’m creating an anachronistic playlist for The West Façade that includes plenty of Depeche Mode.
Is there other statue-based writing you can recommend?
When I mention Susana Clarke as an influence, people often ask if I’ve read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and the truth is, I haven’t, even though I’ve heard wonderful things about that book and it’s been in my TBR pile for years. But I can certainly recommend Clarke’s novel, Piranesi. Many, many statues populate the pages of that book, and though—sadly— they’re not the kind that come to life and speak, they are rendered with the most stunning detail. That whole novel is a craft lesson on world-building.
But if you want more talking gargoyles—especially funny ones— you should definitely check out my pressmate Tara Campbell’s appropriately named novel-in-stories, City of Dancing Gargoyles. It’s a novel about deep, genuine friendship set against the backdrop of the drought-ravaged American West.
Where do you write?
Mainly in my home office, which I share with my rescue doves, Schooner and Eagle. They love to sit on the back of my chair and watch the words move across my computer screen as I type.
I’ve also logged countless hours writing at The Ruby, an arts and letters–focused community for women-identified, transfeminine, and nonbinary creatives. Our Writing Accountability Group truly helped me get The West Façade across the finish line.
What are you reading now? Why did you decide to pick it up?
The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad. It’s a collection of 100 essays on journaling, creativity, and writing, penned by 100 contributors. I picked it up because I’m in a weird place with my writing; I’m leaving behind the world of medieval Paris that I spent so much time researching, imagining, and creating. In order to create new worlds, I feel the need to establish new routines, and I want to incorporate journaling into my practice.
I also got laid off from my job of six years back in February, and the eight months I spent job hunting and freelancing were incredibly disruptive and not at all conducive to a regular writing practice. I recently started at a new job, and as I find my footing and get settled into a new routine, I’m hoping The Book of Alchemy can help me feel centered.
What’s next?
I’m drafting and revising a collection of stories all set in Florida, including a modern retelling of Bambi.
That’s alllllll.
Keep it spooky.
N