by Laramore Black:
Author and musician Joe Clifford, in his own words:
“As an artist, I explore the dark places, the uncomfortable places, the dingy bricks and concrete cracks of a cold uncaring city. I write about the criminals and dope fiends, the dealers and the dreamers, the cops with their heels on the throat, closing in on the kill. I know this scene well, because I once moved among them.
As a homeless junkie for several years, I stole with them, slept with them. I fought along side them. My work shows this world intimately, and ultimately it is not a loss I choose to lament; rather, it is a celebration I embrace. Because for as ugly as it gets out there at times, something beautiful can still shine through the darkness of that life. You just have to know where to look, and you only need to stay on your feet long enough to find it.
I made it out. Many did not. So I go back now and extract what I can, what was preserved, and I champion it. I do it for me. I do it for them. And I do it for you. Enjoy.”
Laramore Black: If you were only allowed to tell the readers one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Joe Clifford: To quote my literary hero, Holden Caulfield: I’m not a phony bastard.
LB: Since you mentioned Holden directly – I have to ask, what do you think of all this tell-all Salinger documentary business?
JC: Conflicted. I mean, in a way it’s disrespectful, knowing how much Salinger hated all…this. But I’m also fascinated. And he’s dead so it’s not nearly as disrespectful as putting it out while he was still here, y’know? And I’ll see it for sure. There’s only been two instances where I loved a single work by an artist that I refused to read or see anything further because it could never measure up. It’s the end all. I won’t watch James Dean’s Giant after seeing East of Eden, and I will never read Franny and Zooey. Although if the rumors prove true and Salinger has vaults filled with stories about the Glass family, I might have to revisit that decision.
LB: You’ve recently released a lot of titles, such as Choice Cuts (a short story collection), Junkie Love, and Wake the Undertaker – which of these has been your favorite to write?
JC: Favorite to write? Honestly, Wake the Undertaker. Interestingly enough this is probably my least “successful” book (if Amazon reviews are to be believed). But I loved creating the rain-drenched underworld of Bay City, and the novel infuses my passion of old-school pulp detective fiction with my boyhood obsession of comic books and superheroes. The process also taught me—or rather reinforced—something I learned a long time ago as a musician: just because it’s fun to play doesn’t mean it’s fun to listen to. That’s not entirely apt here, because Wake is a damn good book, and one I am immensely proud of (a writer loves all his book, like his children: it’s true). But cartoonish and old doesn’t sell (with the public) as modern and realistic.
LB: You have a new title in the works called Lamentation, could you tell us a bit about it?
JC: It’s modern and realistic. Think Russell Banks Affliction meets Hilary Davidson’ Lily Moore series. It’s a commercial thriller/mystery set in the Northern New Hampshire wilderness, and concerns two brothers, addiction, a mysterious hard drive, and a family secret.
LB: I’ve read your blog post about it and mentioned it in my review of Junkie Love, but what did you feel when you saw your old stomping grounds featured in the movie of On The Road? Does it still astonish you, as quiet as it may be, your life has shook hands with the history of one of your heroes?
JC: Seeing Hepatitis Heights in the On the Road adaptation was a trip. Tom Pitts, who I met at Hepatitis Heights back when we were hobos together (sounds classier than junkies, no?), sent me a text while he was watching it. He was, like, “Dude, Neal Cassidy lives in Hepatitis Heights.” I thought he was full of shit. I should’ve known better. Tom is Canadian. Two things about those people: they don’t tan, and they don’t lie. I’m not sure what it means. If I had stumbled upon this coincidence when I was using speed, I would’ve tried to tie some cosmic thread in a greater unifying principle. Now I think the filmmakers picked that house because it looks like shit and the kind of place a speed freak might live in.
LB: Speaking of Junkie Love, you’ve said to me and other people it is technically a memoir but must be presented as a work of fiction. The tone is obviously more like a novel and leans more toward the type of tension found in fiction, but there are few shocking parts I must ask about. First of all, your visit to the hospital with a swelling arm and secondly, the boiling cat heads a roommate was cooking. Are these real events?
JC: Yes. And yes. I was living with a teenaged speed dealer and her two giant dogs, and she used to collect roadkill and boil off the fur and make jewelry. Real sweet kid (seriously). The swollen hand was especially scary because that was the summer of the flesh-eating bacteria, which was catching junkies left (arm) and right (buttocks). You’d think this would’ve been a wake up call or something. I mean, when you get back to Hepatitis Heights and there’s a dude missing half his ass because he shot bad dope, any sane human being would like, “I’m out of here!” But that’s that thing. Addicts aren’t sane, and when you are in that life, you don’t have a choice. You do, of course. But you don’t believe you do, so you might as well not. Know what I mean? So when my hand ballooned like that and the doctors told me I was losing limb, I mean, of course. People were getting limbs chopped off like that scene in Blood Diamond (not that we were wrongfully oppressed and abused; we did this to ourselves).
LB: How has Junkie Love been taken by your readers and those around you? I mean, compared to similar writing from other people it’s pretty gritty. But have people had the reaction you’ve wanted them to? Has it had a positive effect on anyone trying to understand the demon of addiction?
JC: I know it’s been hard for my wife, Justine, probably more so than anyone. I talk about a deep love for my first wife, and the sex and drug scenes are graphic. That’s gotta be hard to have your family know those details about your husband, and all of her very large family has read it. And there have been a few reactions from…others…that haven’t been entirely approving. Then again, it’s like, “It’s published, so what the fuck do I care if you don’t approve?” I mean, I was a junkie and I did bad things and I am sorry and I am not that same man. That should go without saying, but I don’t glamorize that lifestyle. At all. I had one goal when I was writing that book: to tell the story of what addiction is really like, without any of the AA platitudes or soapbox stuff. Drugs work. If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be like a bazillion drug addicts. Fuck, man, people will drink rubbing alcohol if they have to get fucked up. Life is hard, and for a while drugs offer an escape to your problems. Until of course they become the problem. I don’t advocate drug-use to anyone (but my own feelings are they should all be legal, anyway. If I am going to soapbox it would be about the atrocious violations committed in the name of the War on Drugs). But I understand why people do it. I wanted to explain that part. I think I did. Moreover, I don’t think of Junkie Love as a “drug” book. It’s about a boy who is trying to find a place where he belongs. So, yeah, that part’s a success.
LB: You are also in a band, what kind of music do you play and where can the reader find tracks to hear?
JC: The Wandering Jews. I love Springsteen, the Replacements, Gaslight Anthem, alt country. You hear all those influences. Here is our last EP, Down on the Farm. But we just finished a new one, All the Pretty Things, that we are all proud of. We have a new drummer playing with us on the record, Michael Urbano, who is a Bay Area and rock legend (look him up), and it made all the difference. Dude is a fucking pro. The rest of the band is the same. Joe Dean is a rock god on guitar, and Tom Mitchell has the unsung hero job of bassist, but Ryan (Massey, of American Steel, The Reckless Kind, who engineered the effort) and I were talking during mix down about how fucking awesome Tom is as a bassist. Rock fucking solid. Not flashy. Just goddamn good. And Jarret “the Secret Weapon” Cooper plays keys and sings. He does this girl doo-wop harmony shit on this one new track, “I Danced for You.” Kills me. So fucking pretty. Then there’s me. I learned a while ago. Write the song, then get out of the way. A great band makes a few chords sound like more than a few cords, and these guys make my stuff sound awesome. Then kick ass, I growl some lyrics, voila. All the Pretty Things will be up on iTunes shortly. I’ve been trying to make this record for 25 years.
LB: You’ve been the lead editor of the Flash Fiction Offensive at Out Of The Gutter Online for some time and more recently the publishing press extension, Gutter Books. Have you had a lot of work from other people surprise you?
JC: Tom Pitts and I co-edit the magazine, but yeah I’ve been at it a while. The part they don’t tell you about being an editor is that, in the end, it makes YOU a better writer. I learn something every day as an editor, either what to do, or what not to do. I am continually surprised. There are stories that knock your socks off. Last year it was “Daddy’s Girl” by Nicky Murphy. This year it was “The Obituary Game” by Rasmenia Mossoud. Just grabs you in that special place all good stories do, and it makes my life even more awesome knowing I could get a story like that any given day. Plus, I’ve been editing Will Viharo’s Love Stories Are Too Violent for Me, which is the first book I’ll be publishing as an editor for Gutter Books. An remarkable, funny, irreverent book (already optioned for film by Christian Slater), rife with relationship woes and pop culture references. Gets better each pass through. I honestly enjoy editing every bit as much as writing. I look at it as directing vs. acting, in a way. One is more glamorous. But one you have more control over the final product. In a way…
LB: Are there any big plans in the near future and where would you like to see yourself in the coming decade as an artist of many forms?
JC: I don’t believe commercial is a dirty word. I don’t like Dan Brown because he’s a shitty writer, not because he’s successful. I would like to be writing well-respected, syntactically pristine prose, adored by millions. And a movie deal. I’d very much like a movie deal. With Ryan Gosling playing me (he’s dreamy). How the hell should I know what I want in ten years, Black? I’d be fucking amazed if I am even alive (the Cliffords cut out around 50). But if I am alive, I want to be the best dad possible, and watch my son, Holden, grow up happy and healthy.
Please visit Joe at his official website and his author page on Amazon.com — and be sure to check out DarkMedia’s review of Junkie Love.
DarkMedia contributor Laramore Black is a dark fiction writer and poet of the American Midwest. He is the editor-in-chief at Revolt Daily, contributor to the Imperial Youth Review and a staff member at Port Cities Review. His recent publications include Out of the Gutter Online, Shotgun Honey, Literary Orphans, DarkMedia, The Shwibly, ThunderDome Magazine, Solarcide, and a few anthologies; like Long Distance Drunks, Nova Parade, and Salvation Black. You can stalk him on both Facebook and Twitter.
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