Because my life has been one big gob of bullshit lately, I’ve put off officially launching THE LEGEND OF JACKSON MURPHY so that I can focus properly. Jack likes all the attention, so I’d hate to piss him off by half-heartedly launching his story. You know? Anyway, I’d like to invite everyone to the official Facebook launch party, which will include freebies and lots of fun, on July 20th. Time? I’m thinking afternoon, maybe one-ish to whenever you begin to bore me. (I’m kidding! Relax.) Author and kickass friend who lets me drag her into the worst shit, Katrina Monroe, has agreed to help host, and she’ll be live Tweeting throughout the event, offering prizes and fun for Twitter folks too. Follow me (@ReneeMJ) or Kat (@AuthorKatM) or use the hashtag “#WWJMD” to get In on that fun.
I want to introduce you all to the cast of Jack’s story, because the characters are what make this book so damn fun. So in the days leading up to the launch, I’ll be posting character interviews, filled out by each character that played a pivotal role in the making of The Legend. Pay attention. Some of the prize trivia will relate to these interviews.
We’ll begin with Jack, who many of you have met. Tomorrow? I’m thinking Jenny, the wife.
Age: Early 40’s
Background: I’m a self-made man who built a construction company from the ground up. My education isn’t spectacular, but I’ve got balls and that’s why I have what I do today. I avoid my family, because most of them are pathetic and have nothing to offer me aside from headaches and bullshit, and my marriage is going down the tubes. Hobbies? Well, I like to make money and have sex. I’m not into fitness or any of that shit, except maybe to keep myself in shape for the sex. I mean, those young girls like a man with stamina, am I right? Of course I am.
Mental Characteristics: What kind of question is this? I know I said I’d cooperate, but seriously, this is getting too touchy-feely for my tastes. You’re just going to whine and nag until I answer, though, so let’s just get this shit over with. I’m obviously intelligent and clever, or I wouldn’t be where I am. I don’t let emotions rule me, so I’d say I’m a pretty level-headed guy. Unless you try to take what’s mine. You do that and I might get aggressive, even homicidal. But you’d have it coming.
Spiritual Qualities: I don’t have any. I believe in luck, but that’s about it. I don’t believe in God or the general kindness of strangers, whatever the fuck that means. I think you gotta look out for number one, or you’ll get left behind. So, whether something is ethical or not shouldn’t be viewed with as much weight as whether that something is going to get you where you want to be. Also, men are not meant to be monogamous. That’s bullshit. Marriage is what’s wrong with the world today. I’m telling you, if we got rid of marriage, people would be so much better off. Marriage and bisexuals. I’ve got nothing against the gays, but the bi’s are just greedy fuckers.
Emotional Characteristics: Emotions? Give me a break. What—I have to answer this shit too? Fine, I’ll play your stupid game. I’m a confident guy, because I should be. I’ve got the shit to back up that confidence too. I don’t cry or try to delve into my innermost feelings. Who has time for that nonsense anyway? I’m not so much outgoing as I am determined to get what I want. If that means I have to put myself out there, I will. In general, though, I’d rather not deal with people. The majority of the population is stupid. Most people are assholes. Who’d want to deal with that shit if you don’t have to?
Am I happy? I would be if I could get these mooches off my frigging back. Every time I turn around there’s a hand in my damn pockets. I hate my wife, could take or leave my kids, and I just want everyone to leave me and my money alone.
Motivating Desire: Money. Doesn’t that motivate everyone? You say it doesn’t, but you’re a fucking liar. Money makes shit better, and I want to keep my money. That’s all I want. Okay, I want to end my marriage too, but I want to do it as cheaply as possible. That’s why I figured divorce was out of the question. A funeral now, that costs me nothing. But funerals, it turns out, have some repercussions, so then my motivating desire kind of became staying alive, and out of jail.
External Characteristics: Not a George Clooney or Clive level of hotness, but definitely a working man’s Brad Pit level of attractive. I’m not ugly. Women like me.
What do you fear?
Nothing. Okay, maybe jail. Tony’s scary too, but he’s not that smart. The mob really needs to start using hitmen with a touch of education. They’d be unstoppable then, but what do I know? I’m just a target.
Do you have secrets?
I have many secrets, and just so you know, I plan to keep them. But I can give you a general idea of the main ones. Let’s see, there’s Jenny, Ray, Thorne, Whitney, Michelle, James…then there’s the mob shit, which was profitable for a while, until that fat ass detective got her hairy nose into my business.
Inspiration: Inspiration? What the fuck kind of shit is this? My inspiration is greed. Is that what you want to hear? Honestly. Are we done here? Good.
Morning brought sunshine and silence. The kids left for school before Jack even made it to the shower. He came down the stairs, thinking tomorrow he’d be going commando if she didn’t do the laundry. He’d be damned if he’d ask her for anything.
Jenny moved in silence about the kitchen. She’d made just enough coffee for herself. Bitch. The entertainment section of the paper was spread out in front of her but the rest of the paper wasn’t in its usual crumpled heap. He looked to the door and bit his lip. She’d taken out the gossip column and thrown the rest of his paper outside, in the recycle bin.
He made his own coffee and retrieved his crumpled paper from the blue bin on the porch next to the door. As he moved to step back inside, the neighbor across the street stared. Nosy cunt.
Jack resisted the urge to have a pissing match with the likes of her. He would not be drawn in, not now. He walked back inside and joined Jenny in the kitchen.
Sitting in front of her at the small table, Jack made as much fuss as possible while straightening the business section and slurping his properly made coffee.
Jenny did her best to ignore him. He could tell she struggled with the effort by the way her nostrils flared while she read her section of the paper. She was no match for him, and finally looked up, her lips pressed into a thin line to stop herself from yelling. Jenny hated slurpers.
“Do you have to slurp, Jack? Really, it’s annoying.”
“Well, every time you breathe I’m annoyed, so we’re even.”