What do you think?
Rate this book
The Weekender
A modern day Beat combination of Rocky Balboa uppercuts and Kerouacian human perception, THE WEEKENDER exhibits the greatest fear of all rebellious writers: ending up inside the slammer with the pros.
"THE WEEKENDER is a tight fever dream drenched in dark cavity searches, Spam sandwiches, and the lonely movement of time. A modern day Beat combination of Rocky Balboa uppercuts and Kerouacian human perception, Nate Jordon's writing fires off the page like a consecrated bar fight, splattering the walls with clock springs, a raw fortitude of language, and a fair amount of blood."
- Rob Geisen, author of Beautiful Graveyards and Paper Thin
"In THE WEEKENDER, Jordon describes the greatest fear of all literarily-inclined small-time crooks: ending up inside the slammer with the pros. Fascinating characters and hilarious dialogue populate this story that manages to be both hilarious and sobering."
- Nicholas B. Morris, author of Tapeworm
"Nate Jordon obliterates all decaying museums of stuporous thought and blasts us into a fugue state of thrombosis, both potent and life-altering."
- Meg Tuite, author of Domestic Apparition and Disparate Pathos.
"THE WEEKENDER is a tight fever dream drenched in dark cavity searches, Spam sandwiches, and the lonely movement of time. A modern day Beat combination of Rocky Balboa uppercuts and Kerouacian human perception, Nate Jordon's writing fires off the page like a consecrated bar fight, splattering the walls with clock springs, a raw fortitude of language, and a fair amount of blood."
- Rob Geisen, author of Beautiful Graveyards and Paper Thin
"In THE WEEKENDER, Jordon describes the greatest fear of all literarily-inclined small-time crooks: ending up inside the slammer with the pros. Fascinating characters and hilarious dialogue populate this story that manages to be both hilarious and sobering."
- Nicholas B. Morris, author of Tapeworm
"Nate Jordon obliterates all decaying museums of stuporous thought and blasts us into a fugue state of thrombosis, both potent and life-altering."
- Meg Tuite, author of Domestic Apparition and Disparate Pathos.
40 pages, ebook
First published July 4, 2012
About the author
Nate Jordon
12 books29 followersNate tells stories with a pen and a lens. For his musings and other viscera, dig into his website.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
September 10, 2012
Nate Jordon's Wild Weekend
Nate Jordon's extraordinary new chapbook The Weekender holds nothing back but takes us right inside a jail and fairly slams us—no, not up against the wall—but with truths about what's going on in our jail system these days. The tone of absurdity is wonderfully well-wrought through this memoir as our narrator mentions to one person after another as he wanders through the system that, yes, he's here for the weekend, "Unless somebody's made some kind of clerical error." The language is striking, and our narrator's demeanor is caught up in an understandable chill state until he can get this sentence over with.
Nothing is held back inside the Merced County Corrections Facility. Sure, there is the cheek spread and full cavity search we've all heard about, but here we're told in a human tone and in a voice every bit as angry as we'd be. And there are some other rather nasty searches of personal areas as well. Can you imagine sixty men in one locked cell filled with almost nothing but bunk beds, only a few inches to even walk to the door? Bad enough if it were just regular folk, but with some of the crazed and pent-up men described here, scary is putting it mildly.
If you've always wondered what it would be like inside, this is the book for you, especially since the writing is so elegant and spare. Jordon's not going to flower things up for you. The book is full of compelling details that paint a very clear picture.
There is plenty of irony. Take, for instance, the fact that some of these inmates are only coming in for the weekend because they have forty-eight hour sentences or because they're only serving weekends. Yes, they're thrown right in there with the murderers and rapists waiting to be transferred to prison. So here they are, these weekenders, ready to do their duties, pay for what they've done. They arrive for their lock up in plenty of time—no one wants to anger The Man, then are forced to stand outside in the freezing cold for four hours until jail personnel has the time to bring them in.
Expertly conveyed in the book is that these guys may be rabble rousers, breakers of serious laws, men who may live by their own passionate moral codes—even some jerks who did something stupid—most of them have humbly turned themselves over to a higher authority and are here in earnestness to pay for what they've done and get out. The ridiculous things they're asked to do, the food they're required to live on, makes even the more sedate among us truly fume.
Excellent book! Read it now!
Nate Jordon's extraordinary new chapbook The Weekender holds nothing back but takes us right inside a jail and fairly slams us—no, not up against the wall—but with truths about what's going on in our jail system these days. The tone of absurdity is wonderfully well-wrought through this memoir as our narrator mentions to one person after another as he wanders through the system that, yes, he's here for the weekend, "Unless somebody's made some kind of clerical error." The language is striking, and our narrator's demeanor is caught up in an understandable chill state until he can get this sentence over with.
Nothing is held back inside the Merced County Corrections Facility. Sure, there is the cheek spread and full cavity search we've all heard about, but here we're told in a human tone and in a voice every bit as angry as we'd be. And there are some other rather nasty searches of personal areas as well. Can you imagine sixty men in one locked cell filled with almost nothing but bunk beds, only a few inches to even walk to the door? Bad enough if it were just regular folk, but with some of the crazed and pent-up men described here, scary is putting it mildly.
If you've always wondered what it would be like inside, this is the book for you, especially since the writing is so elegant and spare. Jordon's not going to flower things up for you. The book is full of compelling details that paint a very clear picture.
There is plenty of irony. Take, for instance, the fact that some of these inmates are only coming in for the weekend because they have forty-eight hour sentences or because they're only serving weekends. Yes, they're thrown right in there with the murderers and rapists waiting to be transferred to prison. So here they are, these weekenders, ready to do their duties, pay for what they've done. They arrive for their lock up in plenty of time—no one wants to anger The Man, then are forced to stand outside in the freezing cold for four hours until jail personnel has the time to bring them in.
Expertly conveyed in the book is that these guys may be rabble rousers, breakers of serious laws, men who may live by their own passionate moral codes—even some jerks who did something stupid—most of them have humbly turned themselves over to a higher authority and are here in earnestness to pay for what they've done and get out. The ridiculous things they're asked to do, the food they're required to live on, makes even the more sedate among us truly fume.
Excellent book! Read it now!
July 27, 2012
The Weekender
Nate Jordon
Monkey Puzzle Press
Jordon holds all prisoners. Put on your red, gray or blue jumpsuit and get in line to go in for 48 heinous hours in the slammer in “The Weekender.” Don’t plan on doing anything else while reading. You will be sucked into his vortex of green slop, spam that actually turns gray and cheese that no longer resembles cheese (I always thought Spam had no expiration date and would survive a nuclear blast intact, like cockroaches or twinkies) and rabid, unforgettable dialogue.
“This guy, Marvin. He’s some skinny ass white trash motherfucker. When I get done with my five years I’m going to find his ass and beat the fucking shit out of him.”
“Marvin Handlewood?” someone asked. “I know that guy. Shit, he’s here in county right now.”
“Nah, man. Another Marvin.”
“Fuck that man, he’s in cell four.”
“No man, wrong fucking Marvin!” Moody said.
And pretty soon there’s a riot in the cell to go after the poor slob with the unfortunate name, Marvin Handlewood, who has nothing to do with Moody’s toolbox that was stolen by another Marvin, but that’s a whole ‘nother story you have got to read.
Nate Jordon obliterates all decaying museums of stuporous thought and blasts us into a fugue state of thrombosis, both potent and life-altering. Don’t miss “The Weekenders!” Get a copy now at Monkey Puzzle Press! Killer! LOVED this!
Nate Jordon
Monkey Puzzle Press
Jordon holds all prisoners. Put on your red, gray or blue jumpsuit and get in line to go in for 48 heinous hours in the slammer in “The Weekender.” Don’t plan on doing anything else while reading. You will be sucked into his vortex of green slop, spam that actually turns gray and cheese that no longer resembles cheese (I always thought Spam had no expiration date and would survive a nuclear blast intact, like cockroaches or twinkies) and rabid, unforgettable dialogue.
“This guy, Marvin. He’s some skinny ass white trash motherfucker. When I get done with my five years I’m going to find his ass and beat the fucking shit out of him.”
“Marvin Handlewood?” someone asked. “I know that guy. Shit, he’s here in county right now.”
“Nah, man. Another Marvin.”
“Fuck that man, he’s in cell four.”
“No man, wrong fucking Marvin!” Moody said.
And pretty soon there’s a riot in the cell to go after the poor slob with the unfortunate name, Marvin Handlewood, who has nothing to do with Moody’s toolbox that was stolen by another Marvin, but that’s a whole ‘nother story you have got to read.
Nate Jordon obliterates all decaying museums of stuporous thought and blasts us into a fugue state of thrombosis, both potent and life-altering. Don’t miss “The Weekenders!” Get a copy now at Monkey Puzzle Press! Killer! LOVED this!
August 8, 2012
How about spending a weekend in the slammer? The Weekender is for anyone who ever has or doesn't want to. Jordon uses his pen with surgical skill to carve a story of realism and humor. With spare precise prose, Jordon offers us enough detail to make the experience scarily real and withholds enough to do the same. I read the entire twenty seven pages with heart pounding and an ache in the pit of my stomach. "You're getting strip searched....."Cough as hard as you can three times. I tried, but started dry heaving instead." The forty-eight hours seemed to stretch forty-eight years.
" I had no hope of getting out of this asylum." The read was quick and compulsive, yet warped time. Burroughs and Thompson come to mind. Relief near the end "That's fine, I am a .... pussy. But while I'm sitting on the couch watching King of the Hill tonight, your monkey ass will still be here." Jordon invented literature that was entertaining, authentic and instructive. I'll never forget the lesson and I loved the flash novel.
" I had no hope of getting out of this asylum." The read was quick and compulsive, yet warped time. Burroughs and Thompson come to mind. Relief near the end "That's fine, I am a .... pussy. But while I'm sitting on the couch watching King of the Hill tonight, your monkey ass will still be here." Jordon invented literature that was entertaining, authentic and instructive. I'll never forget the lesson and I loved the flash novel.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews