When thumbing by the side of the road, there is often a moment of doubt. Would anybody pull over here, I wonder, and can they even read my sign? Every car that drives by is a betrayal, and the one that finally stops revives my trust in humanity. And I love getting picked up by other women. It’s a rare treat—a relief from the double edge of chivalry and predation that one fears when accepting a ride from a male stranger.

That’s how I met Ms. Alexis Wolf of Olympia, WA and her charming zine about Mary Wollstonecraft. Hyena in Petticoats is a 60-page fan zine for the author of 1792′s A Vindication of the Rights of the Women and mother of early sci-fi novelist Mary Shelley.

The zine includes a series of journal entries from Wolf’s “quiet pilgrimage” to London, where she lived with anarchist philosopher William Godwin until she died in 1797. When I met Alexis I was at the close of my own, destination-less pilgrimage around North America, on my way back to Oregon.

Alexis looked like someone I would know. And, as we came to realize, she actually knew my oldest best friend from Davis High School, Molly Raney, whose musical alter-ego, “Poppet,” had performed recently at Alexis’ house in Olympia. Alexis, with her band Letters, would soon be on her way to return the favor by playing a show with Molly in Davis.

She knew all the lyrics to Molly’s songs. It was one of those meetings that makes a person feel both at home and utterly disoriented. I will stop short of the word “coincidence,” or “serendipity,” because things like this happen when if you travel enough, and Olympia is the capital of small worlds. When I finally sat down and read Wolf’s zine, it was love like being wrapped in a down comforter during a rain storm. I immediately checked out two books of Wollstonecraft’s letters.

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Tao Lin is well known for his wily literary accomplishments, which include writing a book called Shoplifting from American Apparel and then selling it at Urban Outfitters, inciting the ire of Gawker with his mysterious Internet pranks, and basing his latest novel, Richard Yates, around the suicidal angst shared between a pair of lovers named Haley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning.

But when he’s not busy changing the face of literature or sparking hip hop-level firestorms of blogtroversy between improbably irascible haters and die-hard fanatics, Lin indulges himself in the visual arts. His subject? Hamsters. His tools of the trade? MS Paint, Photoshop and construction paper. At a book tour stop in L.A. Tao took the time to chat about his process, share some juicy details on his forthcoming iPhone App, North American Hamsters, and gives us a quick lesson on how to draw a hamster.

[ Ed. Note: Please welcome stellar curator Katie Vonderheide of Synchronicity Space to Future Shipwreck! - Graham ]

I met artist Megan Whitmarsh through an e-mail I sent her before moving to Los Angeles three years ago. At the time, she was pregnant with twins and we talked art, L.A., and me helping to assist her once she had her girls. She is one of my favorite people to talk to, because she speaks in a thoughtful, genuine, and intelligent manner that is topped off with a great sense of humor. It’s the same approach she takes towards her work.

Rather than conducting an ordinary interview, I wanted Megan to share a true story from her past. Sometimes it’s inspiring to be reminded that artists lead fantastic lives full of amazing experiences that influence and harmonize with the work they make. I’m excited to say, at Graham’s eager request, that Megan will be sharing a scintillating story once a month here on Future Shipwreck!

I lived and went to grad school in New Orleans in the mid 90′s. We used to go to this dingy restaurant in a cheap hotel called “The Hummingbird” for breakfast and they had signs all over the place that said things like “all hamburgers are cooked medium” and “No talking to yourself”. I had two friends that had jobs where they made little or actually negative money. My friend Theresa Columbus worked at this place called Tina’s as a morning waitress. She only got paid in tips. The most she ever made was $2.50 but she still worked there for almost a month because she felt sorry for Tina. My friend Ken Como got a job selling Manuel’s Hot Tamales out of a van on a street corner. He said Manuel told him “I usually hire cripples and vets but you can have the job if you want it.” He was to be paid $1 for every 6 dollars worth of tamales he sold. At the end of his first day he owed Manuel $3 because he had eaten one dozen tamales (they were small) and only sold 3 dozen. Also everyone in New Orleans had crazy names like Strawberry and Pigeon and Biscuit and Chicken and Squishy and Otter.

We lived in a warehouse we called “Monster Island” and had shows to make money. We had a circus once on my birthday– me and Panacea Pussycat and another girl dressed up as tigers and leopards and jumped through a flaming hoop. We had an alligator man who was a friend of mine with magic marker scales drawn all over him that remained for many days. In retrospect it seems kind of “burning man”. We used to buy beverages at this place called Suda Salvage that sold things that were discontinued or maybe had fallen off a truck somewhere. They had a lot of food items like raisin pie filling and we got really toxic cheap wine and beer and one time this schnapps called “Shooterita” that was tomato juice flavored. It was so disgusting that we would give a free drink to anyone who drank a shot of it. During termite season the warehouse would be infested and one time we swept up all the termites that had just died naturally over the course of a few days and made a heart-shaped pile that was about 10 feet in diameter and inches tall. The warehouse was so big we could drive all our cars in it and sometimes we had a drive-in night and showed movies on a sheet. There were no windows no kitchen. We used the bathtub to wash our dishes.

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Mary Woronov is the raddest B-movie actress of all time. This is true not only because she is self-aware, saucy and sincerely good at what she does– but also because she’s an artist, a Factory Girl, and a prolific writer. She’s written novels, memoirs, and essays for Artillery on legendary artists from Edward Hopper to Takashi Murakami. She’s a trailblazer and I admire the winding and unconventional path she’s taken through life. When I look at the insane number of marvelous trashy movies on her IMDb profile, all I can think of is what a shame it is that she’s not in ALL the B-movies. Side note: I’m pretty sure there exists a clause in her contract stating that all Mary Woronov movies must have AMAZING posters (see below).

Woronov will be gracing one of my favorite L.A. galleries, Workspace, with her presence on Sunday, October 17th, for a reading called Notes on Film. It’s the latest installment in Nikki Darling and Kate Wolf’s excellent Five Point Readings series, and she’ll be flanked by CalArts faculty member/curator Michael Ned Holte and Peruvian photographer George Porcari. Go see a living legend in the flesh!

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Dallas Clayton has a new website that houses his poems for grown-ups. It’s filled with incredible illustrations, photos from his wild adventures on the road (touring elementary schools with An Awesome Book), videos and some of his best writing from the past and the present. It is rad and I can say that with confidence, as I helped him design it. Add it to your bookmarks ASAP, and if you’re on Tumblr, follow him! Take a look at some particularly excellent Dallas Clayton drawings and writings, after the jump.

Previously:
+ Video: Dallas Clayton on Opportunities
+ An Awesome Dallas Clayton Interview

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Yan Yan is a sage, a scalawag and a wordsmith. Here are some of the things you’ll find in his stories: Palo Alto paleontologists and their lovelorn teenagers, Rem Koolhaas, asshole anarchists who wax theological at hardcore shows, Paris Hilton and the amnesiacs who love her, solar-powered parkas, and the therapeutic qualities of taking a warm bath in a postmodern igloo on the Alaskan tundra.

Yan Yan ensured my lifelong allegiance at the age of fifteen, when he exposed me to the sublime weirdness of Hong Kong cinema on a hot summer day in his parents’ suburban living room. Since then, we’ve shared some memorable adventures on both coasts, and I’ve had the privilege of watching his writing flourish over the years. Also, he plays Ukulele.

Not long after graduating from Columbia, Yan absconded New York for China and its shimmering promises of an unknown future. So in his absence, I was stoked to learn that ultra-rad small press Medium Rare has published a beautiful box set of five Yan Yan zines. Take a look at the collection in all its glory below, along with some pictures I snapped of the rapscallion raconteur himself, last time he visited L.A.

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Gay Chicano Joe Jimenez writes beautiful poems. I felt almost hypnotized as I heard him speak recently at Stories Cafe in Echo Park. He had just arrived after a long trip from San Antonio– and yet his words exuded an air of tranquil confidence, bewitching in their casual rhythm.

I couldn’t help wishing I could see Jimenez’ vivid, autobiographical poems translated into visual language. The wish was quickly granted when I discovered that the great Dino Dinco is fully on the same wavelength. He shot a gorgeous short film on 16mm with Jimenez last year, called “El Abuelo.” Check it out, along with a couple of Joe’s poems, after the jump.

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