Introducing Jimmy Beck

I’m away until at least February 2. Guest bloggers are taking over in my absence, and I’ve pre-posted introductions to appear before each begins.

Many thanks to Andy for blogging on Monday and Tuesday. Please direct all fan mail and comments to andy [at]

Today’s blogger, Jimmy Beck, asks me to introduce him as:

a desultory fiction writer and fulltime pain in the ass currently massaging his hemorrhoids behind a desk somewhere in the middle of a field of flue-cured tobacco. He won’t bore you with his gawdy credentials, other than this one: for a few blissful months in 2004 he served as once and future valet to The Old Hag (with time off for bad behavior). “Jimmy Beck” is a pseudonym because a) his company would probably frown on his mindless, OCD-like propensity to blog and backblog, let alone his penchant for scatological content and b) he’s a big pussy who hides behind a fake name in order to say mean things he would probably never say otherwise (or at least not before a few gin & tonics).

His greatest blog hits include an open letter to New Yorker Fiction Editor Deborah Treisman, in which he “confront[s] the reality of the broken shit detector.”

And at the risk of blowing his fuck-all-y’all cover, Jimmy’s also a good critic, friend, and resume editor. You can reach him at jimmy [at]


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