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Outlaw

C.R. Jahn

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Description:A few of my readers have heard of a notorious first novel, Underground, long out of print. It was a private edition, limited to only 50 copies, most of which eventually self-destructed as the glue used in the binding degraded and pages fell out. T'was a gonzo splatterpunk nightmare which I thought was the most brilliant thing ever written... but, upon review decades later, was in fact an appalling embarrassment. I was a much different person then. Let us say this was written several lifetimes ago. It certainly seems as such. My recollection of those days is hazy, mostly due to vodka, weed, and pain pills. I had my reasons. They were good reasons, the best reasons... 1987 was a very bad year for me. A non-service related injury resulted in a discharge from the Army as well as the loss of my right hand. A trusted friend set myself and others up to be arrested on bogus charges so he could avoid prison. I was fired from my job, my fiancee left me, I wrecked my car. My parents disowned me. I was a mess, deranged, totally alone with my dark thoughts. Daily, I contemplated suicide. Had a sawed-off double barrel shotgun in my mouth several times, but something always kept me from pulling those triggers... I isolated myself for months, banging away at an antiquated WANG office computer salvaged from a dumpster, the kind with a monitor that had green text on a black background and took the old 5” floppy discs, the ones that would actually bend. I stayed up all night, every night, intending this to be my final fuck you suicide note. 325 pages of garbage. The convoluted story had dozens of characters with subplots about outlaw motorcycle clubs, government conspiracies, and a secret complex in the sewers of Brooklyn where abducted street people were forced to fight to the death in a gladiator pit. It sat untouched in a battered briefcase for nearly a decade before a brother who worked for a printer offered to publish it. I felt better after purging myself of all those poisonous thoughts, a catharsis, like lancing a spiritual boil. I felt renewed, no longer obsessed with murdering perceived enemies or shooting myself in the face. These were the thoughts boiling my brain during the worst time of my life. I feel the need to apologize to my readers for some of the dialogue, in which appears extensive profanity and the occasional racial slur (the original 1988 manuscript used the word “fuck” over 225 times). These words are an accurate depiction of what I was hearing from the people around me at that time. Angry, intolerant, small-minded people. There were 3 main characters, each with their own story branch, which occasionally touched upon the others but were novellas in their own right. Rather than shitcan the entirety of this project, I have elected to reproduce the primary plotline here in novella form. I am transcribing this nearly verbatim from the 1995 First Limited Edition and it is not without flaws. This was from a time before I knew how to write properly. Editing and polishing has been kept minimal to correct glaring grammatical errors and adjust for three decades of technological advances. Please be gentle with thy criticisms... Clint Jahn Denver, Colorado October, 2017We have made it easy for you to find a PDF Ebooks without any digging. And by having access to our ebooks online or by storing it on your computer, you have convenient answers with Outlaw. To get started finding Outlaw, you are right to find our website which has a comprehensive collection of manuals listed.
Our library is the biggest of these that have literally hundreds of thousands of different products represented.

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Description: A few of my readers have heard of a notorious first novel, Underground, long out of print. It was a private edition, limited to only 50 copies, most of which eventually self-destructed as the glue used in the binding degraded and pages fell out. T'was a gonzo splatterpunk nightmare which I thought was the most brilliant thing ever written... but, upon review decades later, was in fact an appalling embarrassment. I was a much different person then. Let us say this was written several lifetimes ago. It certainly seems as such. My recollection of those days is hazy, mostly due to vodka, weed, and pain pills. I had my reasons. They were good reasons, the best reasons... 1987 was a very bad year for me. A non-service related injury resulted in a discharge from the Army as well as the loss of my right hand. A trusted friend set myself and others up to be arrested on bogus charges so he could avoid prison. I was fired from my job, my fiancee left me, I wrecked my car. My parents disowned me. I was a mess, deranged, totally alone with my dark thoughts. Daily, I contemplated suicide. Had a sawed-off double barrel shotgun in my mouth several times, but something always kept me from pulling those triggers... I isolated myself for months, banging away at an antiquated WANG office computer salvaged from a dumpster, the kind with a monitor that had green text on a black background and took the old 5” floppy discs, the ones that would actually bend. I stayed up all night, every night, intending this to be my final fuck you suicide note. 325 pages of garbage. The convoluted story had dozens of characters with subplots about outlaw motorcycle clubs, government conspiracies, and a secret complex in the sewers of Brooklyn where abducted street people were forced to fight to the death in a gladiator pit. It sat untouched in a battered briefcase for nearly a decade before a brother who worked for a printer offered to publish it. I felt better after purging myself of all those poisonous thoughts, a catharsis, like lancing a spiritual boil. I felt renewed, no longer obsessed with murdering perceived enemies or shooting myself in the face. These were the thoughts boiling my brain during the worst time of my life. I feel the need to apologize to my readers for some of the dialogue, in which appears extensive profanity and the occasional racial slur (the original 1988 manuscript used the word “fuck” over 225 times). These words are an accurate depiction of what I was hearing from the people around me at that time. Angry, intolerant, small-minded people. There were 3 main characters, each with their own story branch, which occasionally touched upon the others but were novellas in their own right. Rather than shitcan the entirety of this project, I have elected to reproduce the primary plotline here in novella form. I am transcribing this nearly verbatim from the 1995 First Limited Edition and it is not without flaws. This was from a time before I knew how to write properly. Editing and polishing has been kept minimal to correct glaring grammatical errors and adjust for three decades of technological advances. Please be gentle with thy criticisms... Clint Jahn Denver, Colorado October, 2017We have made it easy for you to find a PDF Ebooks without any digging. And by having access to our ebooks online or by storing it on your computer, you have convenient answers with Outlaw. To get started finding Outlaw, you are right to find our website which has a comprehensive collection of manuals listed.
Our library is the biggest of these that have literally hundreds of thousands of different products represented.

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