David J. MacKinnon's Blog

If you’ve ever heard of David MacKinnon, where have you been? Certainly not around the literary scene anywhere in Canada, including his native British Columbia, even though he is arguably one of the best writers in the Province – and I’ll argue it.

If you know him as a writer you must be familiar with the Parisian literary world because he has had novels brought out to acclaim in Europe with Éditions Denoël, France’s most prestigious publisher. Or perhaps you know what’s going on in the Netherlands, where he...

have been?

“This unusual memoir, David MacKinnon’s first work of non-fiction but fourth published book, spans four decades of the author’s life and recounts experiences that could each be the subject of book-length, first-person remembrances, if not dispatches from Home Box Office. These include (among others) his representing a Montreal law firm charged with litigating asbestos indictments of the Quebec government, the story of a New York firefighter friend who lost his life to the cancerous effluvium of 9...

Reading A VOLUNTARY CRUCIFIXION by David J. MacKinnon after a lifetime of exposure to (primarily) genre fiction is similar to a two-hour introduction to full-throttle hot yoga after 20 years of exclusively dining off the menu at Tim Hortons. You may hit a seemingly insurmountable, allegorical wall quickly, but if you persist, your efforts will be rewarded one-hundredfold. I knew what to expect from MacKinnon, having read his novels LEPER TANGO and THE EEL, for which proper superlatives have y...

I have altered the description of my memoir, as it more properly reflects both the title and the contents, rather than the 2-dimensional reference to my Catholic/clan background in the earlier version. Here is the new summary:
"A Voluntary Crucifixion traces out the self-inflicted Via Dolorosa of David J. MacKinnon, disciple of Mary Magdalene, Gilles de Rais, Barabas, the low latin poets, ekstasis and the levitating saints. Survivor-in-exile of leftist purges, dictators both tinpot and tyrannical, chronically plagued by Cassandra's curse. Now, via this "pestilent prescription of morbus gallicus", bidding the ancestors to inflict hery, a poxy wind of Old Testament revenge upon the colluders, queen bees and eusocial kowtowers sucking off the teat of the common weal, while squatting in the derelict basement of his imagination."
I doubt very much the men & women whom I target - the hopelessly naive believers, the Buk-lovers, the low latin poets, the drunks and the deplorables - have enough skin to afford my books. Such is the Bezos-sphere. But I persist. This is the better path - clawing and scratching your way across this beautiful mortal coil, pissing on the graves of the hypocrites who would skin their own mothers while promoting cycling paths. Aye, this is a grand and beautiful life, and it is far better here on the cusp, looking in at the madness and knowing there is a better way - incognito, where you can say and do as you please.

Well, around twenty days until release, and I’m considering giving up writing after working at it for thirty years. Not because I don’t love it. I have never written out of anything but compulsion. I’ve been in some real unhealthy love tangles, but my most dysfunctional, unhealthy relationship has been with the craft of writing. And despite the urgings of my rational mind, I know that I'm unable to tear myself away from this poisoned chalice from which I have drunk so deep. You have to understand, it's about the warm body...
https://www.guernicaeditions.com/titl...
#AVoluntaryCrucifixion #NetGalley

My Magnus Opus, A Voluntary Crucifixion, will be released in three weeks by Guernica Editions. What does this mean? It means my brave PR rep, Anna, will forward the tome to the CBC Books people who will briefly examine it, like Yorick’s skull, prior to returning it to the morgue of their own disinterred imaginations. If I am lucky, the Montreal Review of Books will send out their hatchet-man, the Atwood doppelganger David Homel, who will sneer & sniff & lament the author’s lack of wokefulness. Homel remains a symbol for me – in the old days, we used to call this guy named Petrie the “sniveller”, because that was his technique for getting girls in the sack. He hung around and snivelled until they felt sorry for him or just figured it was less trouble to let him perform the beast than listening to him anymore. That’s my imagined vision of Homel, who could star in a spy show nobody'd watch called the “Canadians”. A tale of a listless, anaemic band of snivelling eunuchs, tracking down pharmacies to load up on cortisone and mojo juice. Petrie eventually became the chief of police in a small town in BC. I blame him for the housing crisis and the low birthrate among Caucasians. I remember him telling how he could snivel his way out of a fight with any criminal. Petrie couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. Maybe he’s working for CBC these days or the Writer’s Union.
#AVoluntaryCrucifixion #NetGalley

Writing your memoirs is like dying. You start off with “I was there…” Hong Kong in 89, Italy during the Brigadi Rosso days, Quebec with the separatists. Africa. Then you realize you barely left a footprint. Like everyone. Then, that you’re speaking in the past tense.

One of the reasons that I wanted to leave a trail of my earlier years, from being an undersized Catholic runt scrambling to survive at the mouth of the Fraser River, to working in a morgue, then a toilet factory, then back to the docks, was because we had the option then. When I longshored, it was $5.83/hour, a lot of dough in 1973, even though cousin Tom had nailed a job on the green chain at over 8 bucks/hour. The point being, you could toe the line, or you could tune in, turn on and drop out. And that's why I decided to look into things from the bottom up.

Today, you get a lot of talk about millenials and snowflakes etc, but these kids don't have it easy. The adventures on offer are virtual. It's supposedly a borderless world, but from what I see, people have never felt so fenced in. But, it's still possible to do whatever you like. Freedom is there for the taking.

To be sure, I voluntarily crucified myself, but I never regretted it. Every last one of the characters I met got the better of me. But, when I went to China, I knew I was doomed before I even stepped out onto Kai-tek airport in 89. But that's just it. If you want to see life, you have to be ready to start at the bottom.


https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4...

"I have left too many casualties along the trail of this shattered dream to be blind to the impossibility of escape. I have betrayed my own flesh and blood until it became a habit. I buried secrets so deep within the catacombs of my heart, vowing that nothing but death and the Creator would exhume them."
From the opening page of A Voluntary Crucifixion.
https://www.guernicaeditions.com/titl...

DISCLAIMER

A Voluntary Crucifixion is a literary fiction. Any resemblance in this volume to living cucks, barking moonbats, blue-pillers, or to similar conveyors of swivel-eyed ideas, alive or dead,  is purely coincidental. WARNING: Voluntary Crucifixion is not a substitute for prescription medication. The reader should regularly consult a physician in matters relating to his/her health and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis or medical attention. Crucifixion...