User blog comment:HumboldtLycanthrope/Anybody want to read the montage I wrote for my class with Chuck Palahniuk?/@comment-25037895-20150908173817/@comment-26030957-20150908202443

I have a rough draft done and I'm struggling to re-write it and get it polished up. I've shopped it around a little and have gotten some very positive reactions from literary agents in NYC, but they all say it has to be completely polished and in perfect and pristine condition before they will even consider it. It's three hundred pages long and sometimes I just get overwhelmed. I hope to have it all tidied up by the end of winter. Wish me luck!

Jennifer is sad because she is somewhere she doesn't want to be, has given up all her hippy ideals, and basically become her mother. She wanted to move way into the country to grow a little pot but mostly to commune with nature, live off the land, teach her daughter about medicinal herbs, organic gardening, and harvesting wild greens and mushrooms from the woods. But now she's stuck at this huge indoor scene that uses chemical fertilizers and pesticides and a diesel generator that spits out tons of pollution. It's winter and raining and she can't go out, the local store has no organic food. And the neighbors, oh boy, the neighbors,  Half the novel is from the POV of the neighboor, a crystal meth dealer with a complicated relationship with his son. There's ghosts, sex, drugs, violence, hippies going bad and decapitating people with shovels. What's not to love?