Big Don Interview

My cousin A.Michael interviewed Big Don with an old fashioned tape recorder in the pub. Big Don switched allegiance from WOL and submitted himself to various saucy e-zines, where he has gained success. He has brought the blog page into a controversy of sorts, attracting complaints and bringing undue attention to his ex-agent, Gus Kidney, who has only agreed to post this in order to clarify the matter in public, for good. Gus Kidney and WOL does not endorse Big Don or Big Don’s work in any way.

First off, I’m sorry about the split.

No matter. I’ve already forgotten about it.

I think it’s WOL’s loss, for what it’s worth.

So do I. Sex is big bid'ness.

WOL isn’t in the business of selling yet though. Just promoting.

WOL is acting all Disney at the moment, pretending to be cute. I’m just waiting for a pink background on the blog page and pictures of bunny rabbits.

Didn’t we have a link here, for a story of yours?

No, it was wrong. And now Gus is pretending to be ashamed to be associated with me, when all he used to tell me is to ‘write what I know’.

It was a pretty graphic story you had published on the web. The site which published it is an 18s only site. How does it feel when someone who wants to read it has to skip past adverts selling sex toys?

It feels great. They’ve just agreed to publish another one next month. April. I think the woman editor fancies me.

Have you met her?

My mind, she fancies my mind. Your imagination is obviously bound to the mere physicality of sex.

Are you bi-sexual? People are curious.

I’ve a good mind to give you a smack on the mouth for asking me that.

The graphic content would suggest––

Listen, you don’t know douche about the meaning of graphic content. I don’t go banding about taboo words like the rest of them, you know. A lot of them are just grossly descriptive. Not me. Not Big Don. My scenes are from deep in the chambers of the mind and soul. They are major events, not sneaky dogging adventures on a car park. Done stylishly.

What, you mean you don’t just think them up like any other story?

Hell no. These have been cooking ever since adolescence. So that’s only two pieces of sexual expression in all that time. But already I can’t imagine not ever expressing myself this way. I’m looking forward to what comes out in my third effort.

You could go the whole hog and do it for real.

There you go again. I really will put a thick lip on you, you get me? This is Big Don you’re talking to. Not some local brat from definitely never gonna get published or whatever the hell the name of that booklet is you dump in libraries. I’m warning you, blood.

I’m just thinking of HUNG, that new drama about the gigolo starring Thomas Jane. I like him. It’s a good show, that.

I’ve seen it. It’s rubbish. And it’s miles apart from what we’re talking about. You’ve got me down as a filth merchant, just say it loud and true. I’d still be writing here under one name or another if it wasn’t. But for people who don’t see the difference between p**n and erotica, then I simply don’t care. I haven’t time for them. What I’m doing now is more engaging than anything going on at steakpie seven seven dot blog of gob dot com, because people on-line from here to Timbuktu are enjoying sharing the fantasies I conjure up. The likelihood is that your fantasies are probably dying a slow death in your own lonely head and tormenting you in the process.

OK. Whatever, Big Don. Thanks.

Anytime, bruv.

Details of Big Don’s upcoming April publication and his previous December one can be found on his link history on MyFace.

50% Rude Latest

Titles

ON THE SATIN SHEET

TRANSSEXUAL THERAPY

18 HOUR WANKATHON

SANTA’S BAD JESUS

BACK OF THE QUEUE

MUDDY ANGEL, DARK DOMAIN

SHEBANG RUNAWAY

RUNE

BEAR ATTACK

STOLEN ESCORT

VOICES, VOICES

AUSCHWITZ vs 731

4 are finished, 3 have yet to be started, and 5 are well underway. You are only as good as your last production. This one is going to be the shortest of all, hardly long enough to be called a book, really, but maybe it will be put to use as part of something longer. Forget chunky novels though; they are like three-hour films.

Why am I writing rude? The answer is simple: It’s just the stage where I’m at. It’s called 50% Rude because I’m 50% Rude. It’s all about contrast and context: The sweet and the sour. In previous plots, this concept has been intermingled, but now it’s divided equally into two halves. I’ve emerged from the foggy confusion of my distortion phase (THE VIOLENT ARSONIST), with all its seductive shades of grey, and am now back to painting the world either black or white.

I’ve been accused of selling out, by wearing the rude label. I see it more as buying in. But my general rule of thumb is of course no blood, goats or kids. I prefer friskiness. Naughtiness. Like in the old black and white movies, the suggestion of sex is so much sexier than the sex itself. With most modern movies now the fake sex scenes equal cringe-time big-time, apart from the odd super-realistic few which work almost too well! The movies Red Road and Fishtank by British director Andrea Arnold come to mind. Also, and this may be unrelated, but I can’t help but chuckle at the prospect of an unsuspecting teen couple on their first date together going to watch the extreme Last House On The Left at the cinema, thinking they are in for just another spooky movie!

So on one hand I’m submitting to and embracing the rude half of my inner being, or writing with my penis, if you like (wouldn't that make for a swell party trick), but on the other I’m leaving it out of the equation altogether. The idea was that the second half of these stories would be purer of the heart and soul, done this way. It’s kind of like a chemical distillation process. Stolen Escort should hopefully shine with the beauty of a person trying to write a love story not really old enough to know what true rude even means. In such company, it should shine brighter than it normally would in a similar-minded collection of non-rude stories. A whole book full of love and happiness is too goddamn much; the other night, during a soppy movie, I was secretly praying for a stalk n slash character to burst onto the screen and lob off Pierce Brosnan’s head with something out of a toolbox. But in the midst of dark loveless horror, the faintest touch of genuine romance can have just the same effect.

In association with Big Don