COVER

COLOPHON

ALSO BY ERIC BOGOSIAN

Wasted Beauty

Mall

subUrbia

Notes from Underground

Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll

The Essential Bogosian: Talk Radio, Drinking in America, Funhouse & Men Inside

Pounding Nails in the Floor with My Forehead
Talk Radio

Drinking in America

TITLE PAGE

COPYRIGHT

SIMON & SCHUSTER

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2009 by Ararat Productions, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Simon & Schuster Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

SIMON & SCHUSTER and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bogosian, Eric.

Perforated heart / Eric Bogosian

p. cm.

1. Authors—Fiction. 2. New York (N.Y.)—Social life and customs—3.

Publishers and publishing—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3552.O46P47 2009

813’.54—dc22

2009008414

ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-9433-8

ISBN-10: 1-4165-9433-7

DEDICATION

For Henry

EPIGRAPH

Yesterday is not a milestone that has been passed, but a daystone on the beaten path of the years, and irremediably part of us, within us, heavy and dangerous.

—SAMUEL BECKETT, PROUST

PERFORATED HEART

CONTENTS

BEGIN READING

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BEGIN READING

December 12, 2005

Last night Leon dangled the carrot of a fancy literary award before my greedy snout and I, like the pig I am, lurched for it.

Arrived on time for the Humphrey, freshly shaved, in suit and tie, and joined the throng of hipster literati milling outside the ballroom. I was shown to a table near the back of the room. Not a good sign. An aging socialite stinking of chardonnay and Chanel No. 5 leaned in, “Are you a writer? I hope someone at this table is a writer!” I beamed as if we were sharing a witty joke. A salad adorned with flower petals was put in front of me. Wine was poured.

I spied Leon seated three tables closer to the front of the room. He waved. I nodded. He turned away. My own editor could not be bothered to come over to my table and say hello. Of course, Leon wanted me there because he can’t waste precious bucks promoting my new novel. No budget means there will be no display ads. No audio book. No parties given in my honor at Balthazar or the Four Seasons. All I will get is an abbreviated book tour (flying coach and residing at budget hotels). No NPR appearances. No magazine covers. If I’m lucky, I’ll get two or three guest lecture gigs at second-rate colleges. It’s all nickels and dimes to him.