A Chat with Matthew Boyarsky:
Evan Fleischer: Introduce yourself to readers as if you were a knight.
Matthew Boyarsky: My Lord, I cry your mercy for my delay and thank thee for housing a weary traveler. I’ve ridden from BULL, to X-R-A-Y, to HAD, and back to Hobart to meet you. Sir Matthew of Montdale, son of Gerard, at your behest.
EF: You wrote "The Ring Bearer," Sir Matthew of Mondale. What was the first sentence you wrote in that story? If you don't remember, which sentence strikes you as being the most likely culprit?
MB: Definitely the first sentence. (“My ex-wife was getting married again, and she asked me to be the ring bearer.”) I think I had it in my phone notes for a while. One night I let the image take the wheel so I could get rowdy in the passenger seat.
EF: It feels like there are two rhythmic centers in the story: the first half (or so) feels a little more ... caustic? And the second seems to fall into a kind of flow? I'm not asking you to get all exegetical here, but is there anything in these two rhythms you feel like might be worth remarking on?
MB: I wish I could be venomous when someone does me wrong, but I always soften and unravel. When pushed to the brink I still do nothing about it. I think the narrator's response and rhythm mirrors that cowardice.
EF: If you could make one word repeated seven times be a grammatically correct sentence, a la "Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo,” what would it be?
MB: "Hoagie."
EF: So what would 'to hoagie' mean, then? And what would the adjective of hoagie convey?
MB: ‘To Hoagie,’ v. to bathe oneself in oil and vinegar
‘Hoagie,’ adj. 1. graceful or delicate; assembled with care 2. drunk
And in the world where it's a proper noun, I'm the mayor of Hoagie.