West Seneca, NY—In support of his latest novel, Larry Plumb Is Still Here, local author P.A. Kane has been doing book talks and signings at various venues and libraries throughout Western New York. This week, at his last event of the year, he electrified all four people in attendance at the West Seneca Public Library with a stirring and emotionally charged presentation.
In the thirty-minute talk, Kane extolled the virtues of Larry Plumb’s heroic masculinity He pointed out that the world was full of beer-swilling, donut-eating, Homer Simpsons. Also, that there was no shortage of loudmouth podcast bros who, one moment, were nuclear energy experts, and in the next, constitutional law scholars, despite having failed high school chemistry and learning civics by way of Schoolhouse Rock. Despite the noise from these low-frequency also-rans, Kane reminded the quartet of attendees that the world still contained monoliths like Larry Plumb. Men who are critical thinkers, men who honor their commitments, and are accountable. Men who show up every day and make accommodations for others.
The group sat in rapt attention as Kane shared an anecdote about workshopping a small portion of the book in a Zoom class through the Iowa Writers Summer Workshop. He recounted a tense exchange from an early chapter in the book with the Zoom class, where Larry drops an “F bomb” on his daughter. A female classmate commented that both Larry and Kane might benefit from a sensitivity coach. Kane was a little taken aback by this comment, but after turning it over in his head for a minute, he had a suggestion for his classmate: “Why don’t you get some organic sliquid, lube up a mauve-colored Gwyneth Paltrow tennis coach vibrator, and stick your stupid comment and that purple pocket rocket in your ear.”
Shaking his head, the author said he never got a straight answer as to why he wasn’t welcomed back into the Zoom class.
But what really hit home with the group was Kane’s journey to becoming a celebrated author. He spoke of his humble beginnings on Lockwood Avenue, where he drank powdered milk and ate bologna sandwiches—endless fucking bologna sandwiches. He thoughtfully recounted his travails with Oxford commas, dangling modifiers, and subject-verb agreement. He spoke of being rejected by girls throughout his aimless teen years and his unwavering perseverance, which later led those same girls to rue the day they jilted Amazon’s eventual 1.5 millionth-most-popular author. All of which led to this night—where he owned the West Seneca Public Library’s podium in front of four electrified book-loving witnesses.
Exhausted yet triumphant, Kane closed the talk to the thunder of eight clapping hands and wished everyone a Merry Christmas and good tidings for the New Year.
