My mustachoid friend Corwin has written a novel, and it is now on Eat Your Serial.

My friend Corwin Scott Gibson fancies himself a hipster, but he's not. I think that will be the nicest thing I say about him, for now. I first met him at a Mexican restaurant with my friend Valerie (who saved me from work-induced insanity by summoning her boyfriend Aram to drive me to the hospital, as mentioned in a previous post), and I liked him. That alone was proof enough that he was not a hipster, as I have a tendency to punch all hipsters in the face the moment I am aware of them.

I learned eventually that he's a writer, but not the social kind like I am. Corwin does not do writers' groups. He does not seek feedback from his writer friends. He doesn't, as I happen to know from a reliable source, even share his work with his mother.

No, Corwin retreats to a little hole in his apartment (it's like a Bat Cave, but messier), and emerges with things like Murdertrain fully formed. It is about a former Mexican wrestler on leave from his mobster day job to go find his missing brother in Hawaii. This is it below, and you can read it on Eat Your Serial earlier than Mister Mercury in the week, though mine is of course much furthur into the story (because Hermes can run much, must faster than the Murdertrain).

So read it below. I've even included the swell cover for you. Just click on it and it'll take you right to Eat Your Serial.

 

Murdertrain (cover by Ben Silberstein)

Though, to Corwin's credit, much in hipster fashion, Corwin does have a stupid mustache.

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