“Today son, you are a man,” he said, snatching the little blue binky from my little pink hand.
So I shot him.
So begins Mort Morte, a macabre, coming-of-age story full of butchered butchers, badly used Boy Scouts, blown-up Englishman, virginity-plucking cheerleaders, and many nice cups of tea.
Poignantly poetic, hypnotically hysterical, sweetly surreal, and chock full of the blackest comedy, Mort Morte is like Lewis Carrol having brunch with the kid from The Tin Drum and Oedipus, just before he plucks his eyes out.
In the end though, Mort Morte is a story about a boy who really loves his mother.
David Henry Sterry is the author of 13 books, a performer, muckraker, educator, activist, and book doctor. His ground-breaking anthology Hos, Hookers, Call Girls and Rent-Boys was featured on the front cover of the Sunday New York Times Book Review. His first memoir, Chicken, was an international bestseller and has sold into nine countries. He has written books about working at Chippendales Male Strip Club, the teenaged brain, how to throw a great pajama party if you’re a tween girl, a patriciding mama’s boy, World Cup soccer, a sex maniac, and how to get a book published. He’s taught at Stanford, Reed and Smith. He’s appeared in the London Times, on NPR, and between the covers of both Penthouse and Playgirl magazines. He’s acted with Will Smith, Michael Caine and Zippy the Chimp. He’s worked as a soda jerk, limo driver, referee, building inspector, Disney screenwriter, poet, athlete, telephone solicitation specialist, and marriage counselor. He loves any sport with balls, and his girls.