These actors are cracked. Out from under techno-creep overseers rise the rejects, the dropouts, and the freaks. A counterculture funhouse, home to strung out hedonists, underground musicians, magic practitioners, and those just looking for the next party. With Venice Peach (Maudlin House, 2025), Jessamyn Violet creates an alternate reality that seems too wild a proposition and yet right around an interdimensional corner. Politics and show business intermingle in new and strange ways, as LA’s free spirits are put to the test. I spoke to Jessamyn about this unruly book.
Rebecca Gransden: Step right up here, Pop Stars and Punkers…
Welcome to the Strangest Show on Earth.
The world of Venice Peach is one of spectacle. It speaks the language of the sideshow, of show business and the circus. What draws you to the carnival?
Jessamyn Violet: The two most primal draws to the carnival are A) knowing that you are also a freak and wanting to be with your people, or B) the fascination with freaks because you secretly wish that you were freakier. For me, I was a freak AND a geek from an early age, and that’s why I enjoy living in and writing about the carnival atmosphere. It’s always a little off-kilter; you can feel the dysfunction lurking close beneath the surface. There’s an intoxicating mix of fun, pride, and production magic in the air. When I first moved to Venice, there was the original Freak Show on the boardwalk, which was more of a weird, dusty cabinet of curiosities. They had the two-headed turtles and snakes out front to draw a crowd. Over time, some reality TV money came in and it grew into a full-fledged performance featuring an electric lady, a guy who would put a fish hook through his nose, a bearded lady, and more. Some crazy stuff went down, and it basically disappeared overnight. The boardwalk really hasn’t felt the same since. I ran into the bearded lady at a dive bar in New Orleans this past fall and she still didn’t want to talk about it.
RG: When did you first have the idea for the book? How long did it take to write?
JV: This book came to me in the early fall of 2016 in a way no other book has. We were facing that election and I could sense what was about to go down. I wanted to go to a place in my head where all the worst had already happened and the characters were on some sort of wayward, weary “uptick” again. It was my version of pressing an ambiguously optimistic fast-forward button, I suppose. I wanted the characters to feel hope, and to feel sexy, and to also be inevitably doomed. The first draft came to me faster than any before, in just over two months. Of course there have been years of revisions since, but the “first take” came out from somewhere pure and almost prewritten. I had the “lightning fingers.” Just like it’s supposed to feel, but hardly ever does.
RG: A strange and wonky energy tugged and pushed at all those wandering the Venice Beach boardwalk at dusk. Drifters and vagrants scattered in search of shelter. Robotic security scanned the souvenir shops as the owners shuttered their doors and windows, preparing for a tumultuous night of hot gusts blowing in from Santa Ana. Airborne grit and grime coated the heaping piles of abandoned technology and covered benches and turbo-tennis courts like dirty snow. Outside gyms and the silicone skate bowl grew littered with fallen palm fronds and feathers.
Venice Beach is your location. How did you settle upon this place as the main focus of the novel? In what ways does the version of Venice Beach shown in the book differ from the reality?
JV: Venice Beach has always had a profound effect on me. I moved clear across the country in 2006 just to take a chance that I’d be able to live here, and I’ve held on tight ever since. It’s a place that helps me make more sense to myself, gives me a deep inner peace…. Basically, a soulmate manifested as a place. And since I couldn’t marry it, I wrote a fictional tribute to it. My only hope was to be able to capture it in a way that conveyed the full range of the colors, art, creativity, characters and electricity in the air, here; that demonstrates the freak haven that it is and will hopefully always be. You can go out wearing absolutely anything and people don’t bat an eye. As someone from a small town, this feels endlessly refreshing. All types of people can be found in Venice Beach, making it arguably the best people watching in the world. The juxtaposition of the boardwalk and Abbot Kinney Blvd, as gritty as it can be glamorous. Venice Peach’s version of Venice is kind of like the real one on hallucinogenics. I wanted the book to be a trippy reflection of it – a place where bizarre people collide and accept each other for their differences, but distorted enough that you could believe you were in an altered version of it.
RG: Until recently the idea of a robot president would’ve horrified most voters of whatever political persuasion, now it doesn’t seem an unreasonable option. How do you view the president’s role in the book?
JV: The weirdest part about the robot president role, President TBD 3000, is that I wrote it before AI took off… Back in 2016, I’m not even sure I’d heard the initials yet. It was just a funny (in its awfulness) idea to me. I could never have guessed that it would become so much more relevant – and maybe even possible. Hard to comment much more without spoilers, but… I think that President TBD’s role in the book holds up eight years later, miraculously.
RG: A juicy peach with dark glasses adorns the front of the book. What’s the story behind the cover?
JV: The cover art is the work of Venice muralist/street artist Muckrock. Her artwork is everywhere in Los Angeles, especially Westside since she lives here in Venice. I’ve been a fan of hers as long as I’ve lived here, and Muckrock is someone who shows up for her community in pure punk rock fashion. My band Movie Club collaborated with her in 2019 for a music video, and she was so cool about it that it became my dream to have her design cover art for my Venice-based book. I gave her no real direction, as it should be when you hire a master of their craft. I just said, “Do your version of a Venice peach,” and Muckrock spray-painted this icon onto a wall in an alley here in Venice Beach in about 20 minutes. You have to work fast when you’re a street artist. And as expected, she nailed it. It has since been covered up, sadly, but that’s how it goes in the world of street art. But it will live on forever on the cover.
RG: Magic practice and the act of divination is part of the Venice Peach world. What led you to incorporate the ideas of witchcraft and Tarot into the book?
JV: Venice Beach has as much dark magic as light, and is a potent place for witchcraft. Tarot readers are all over the boardwalk. Psychics are posted up on corners with neon signs. Tourists love to get their futures told and palms read here. Sacrificial animals have been found on the beach. A raw food cult used to have a members-only “garage” here, and I got to peep it a few times because I was trying out the raw food diet and hanging out with members with names like Pineapple Head and Vanilla Bean. There are all sorts of interesting stories about the now-abandoned cult/church structure on Rose Avenue that a famous actor from the 90s used to own. Sexy cult stories… No one has bought it since. I’m practically dying to see inside, and have often imagined posing as a buyer just to get the tour.
RG: All together, there was an effortlessness to their sound that made Tiny Tin Heart an analog band that the locals had come to know and love like they were the next big thing – though it would be near impossible to reach that kind of status because the live music scene had almost completely died out. Most venues had transformed into sports bars or DJ-fueled nightclubs. And it was known that fame, in general, took longer than ever these days, thanks to the oversaturation of Everything On Earth.
Music, and the music industry, plays an important part in the novel. How has your individual experience in that world fed into the book?
JV: I’ve been playing and listening to music as often as I write and read books my whole life, and I often feel compelled to write musician characters that include perspectives on the music industry. I try to include a lot of angles – from the characters who do it as a hobby, to those relentlessly driven by burning passion, to the ones primarily in it for fame and fortune. Being on the frontlines of the indie music scene, I often marvel at its advances and setbacks. Too often, things get lost in translation. It’s wild to see how many talented performers struggle and sabotage on platforms because they don’t get the results/response they feel they deserve. Artists can do backflips for attention and only sometimes get it, and even then, the translation to lasting fans, ticket sales, record deals and profit margins is far from guaranteed. Big agencies keep reviving the old days of music – reunion tours, giant nostalgic festival lineups – because back when music was only sold in tangible form, people would listen over and over to the same bands and the songs came to really mean something to them. Nowadays, it is truly difficult to make a lasting and sustainable impact. We see more and more small venues folding, and that is a hard thing to watch. But we must continue on in the face of adversity, and hopefully inspire others to do their part to never let the indie music scene die because community support keeps people putting themselves out there. There’s a rare form of connective energy that is passed through the early stages of growth that is absolutely essential to both the performers and the listeners. And that is the point that Tiny Tin Heart is at in the book, they’re creating that energy through their music, fueled by community support in an illegal underground speakeasy.
RG: Did you listen to music while writing the book? Are there bands or artists you would recommend to Venice Peach readers?
JV: I almost always listen to music while writing… During this first draft I was obsessed with Frank Ocean’s Blonde, which had just dropped at the time. I had Warpaint’s entire repertoire on heavy rotation. These quirky Canadian bands I’d discovered called The Unicorns and Mother Mother. Tame Impala’s first two albums. “Lo-Fi Hip Hop Beats” Youtube playlist as well.
RG: The titular Venice Peach is revealed to be a juice and smoothie place. What is your best ever smoothie?
JV: OK, I am lazy when it comes to making smoothies and I reeeeeally don’t enjoy paying $20 for one, so I don’t really drink them often… but if there was a Venice Peach Specialty Smoothie, these would be the ingredients:
-Frozen white peaches
-Almond milk
-Dash of fresh mango
-Dash of cinnamon
-Coconut cream vegan yogurt
-2 scoops protein powder
-Bee Pollen
-Maca Powder
-CBD oil
And it would inexplicably cost $8 so everyone could afford to GET SOME!
RG: Your characters face encounters with robotic police, and many aspects of society function under surveillance. They confront the dilemma of whether to reluctantly kowtow to a technocracy, or consider resistance. What is your own relationship to the technological aspects of contemporary life? What, if anything, do you resist?
JV: I’ll try to harness my tendency to rant on this subject… but I resist nearly everything. Even dumb things. I’m contrary by nature, and decidedly a luddite. It’s in my blood and my star chart, I think. I’m a triple Taurus. I’ve never used any form of AI that wasn’t forced on me (Google, Meta, looking at YOU). Updates drive me insane and I delay until forced, and then see red about being forced. I’ll never own a Siri or Alexa and only speak to them if absolutely necessary, and they seem to sense my hatred because they never do what I tell them anyway. I fight to do things the hard way because I am a stubborn bull, and I don’t want to get soft, spoiled and lazy, or forget how to do things myself.
RG: Bobobo was deeply devoted to a female duck, but she was unfortunately not faithful to him, as she couldn’t resist having offspring each year. It drove him wild but he stayed by her side (or usually in the murky water underneath her).
How do you describe your creation, Bobobo?
JV: Hehehe… Bobobo is a paranormal creature who willed himself into existence. For years, I’d been playing around with this idea for a children’s book, “Cassandra and the Canal Creature” – but every time I tried to write it, the canal creature just came across as creepy… Venice Peach was finally (and shockingly) the right home for the concept. It turned out to be the complete opposite of a children’s story, the storyline mounting to perhaps the dirtiest scene I have ever written. There is a certain vibe to the canals that I’ve always felt could produce a uniquely magical being, and the canals are both pretty as well as pretty scummy and dirty, and I guess that had to come through in the being’s personality as well. I could not tell you where the name came from. Absolutely no idea. And for some reason, in my head his voice has always been that of the great narrator of Winnie the Pooh, Jim Cummings.
RG: It was probably nothing. But the part had come to mean too much at this point. Gerard’s entire future depended on landing this role. The director, Ty Beck, was one of the last few directors worth working with. The industry had completely gone to shit and most productions out there were written by algorithms starring holograms. Gerard was only interested in doing the real thing, and therefore hadn’t sold his image, voice and likeness profile off yet.
Which movie would each of your characters choose as their favorite?
JV: Really fun question. They’d have to all be classics… Odessa’s favorite movie would be Natural Born Killers. Stevia’s would be Return to Oz. Auggie’s would be Dude, Where’s My Car? Dr. Phil’s would be the original Blade Runner. Bobobo’s would be E.T. Cassandra would dig Tank Girl. Gerard would love industry meta flicks like Tropic Thunder and Bowfinger. And Matt Bogart would claim a tie between Pulp Fiction and Swingers.
RG: Classic band tensions and twisted dynamics plague the novel’s group Tiny Tin Heart. Clashes of personality, ego, and music direction arise, as is a common story. How did you approach this aspect? Any real-life bands or artists an influence?
JV: Hah! Too many to count … Yes, a life spent collaborating with and observing all sorts of musicians has influenced the way I portray the band members. All writing is a collage, I think, of life experience, your hopes/fears, and what the plotline benefits from. But as far as the matter of whether there are any direct references here, there are not. Each of the members of Tiny Tin Heart is entirely unique, and also a mass conglomeration of musicians who came before them.
RG: Venice Peach introduces the concept of superdoom. How does superdoom differ from ordinary doom?
JV: I had a lot of fun with the concept of “superdoom on the supermoon…” Feels very SoCal. It’s intended to be silly, but also feels very real as far as the hyperspeed humanity has been entering of late. As a millennial, it has truly been wild to watch the acceleration within the span of my own lifetime. Ordinary doom was for people to speculate about humanity in the 1900s. The 2000s increasingly feel like a superdoomed time, a period in which having optimism for the future gets more and more hard. I look back on my college years and think about how differently I got to envision the future than the kids in college right now, and that feels both sad and special, you know? The world was still holding itself together a little more tightly back in the early 2000s. Then I graduated and went into the previously thriving magazine industry, and things took a downward turn. So I parlayed into film and TV production, which is also somehow in an insanely tumultuous state right now. And that’s just my own experience. So many people in so many industries have been doing the same shitshow shuffle at lightspeed lately. And I feel for the newer generations who may not get to have rosy optimism at any point in their youth. To me, that is the real definition of what superdoom is.
RG: Auggie was pissed off. During the Venice Pier portion of their afternoon walk, Cackles the cursed seagull had latched onto Auggie and Rusty. It was understood through local folklore that whomever the gull latched on to would fall victim to hard times. The ugly bird trumpeted his terrible caws of doom while hovering over him and his poor dog, thoroughly creeping them both out. Fishermen pointed and clucked at them sympathetically while the gull’s grim shrieking painted everything with a dark and ominous foreboding.
Rusty the Dog, Fonsie the Snake, Cackles the cursed seagull, Pansy the cat: Venice Peach is a damned menagerie. Your animal creations are gifted with some of the most memorable scenes in the book. How do you view the animal presence in Venice Peach?
JV: It is an odd and funny animal cast in Venice Peach! I’ve always been obsessed with animals. When I was little, I used to want to be a zookeeper. Animals hold so much charm in their personalities and presence, and I just wanted to honor their contribution to the overall Venice vibe. I have always been a firm believer that animals make everything better and think that certainly extends to fiction as well. Another thing about animals is that they’re hypersensitive, but also immune to our politics and social bullshit, so they are the most clear and unbiased readers of the room, and it’s always so fun to play with that.
RG: Venice Peach presents a warped, funhouse mirrored version of contemporary politics and social trends. What roles do satire and absurdity take in your work?
JV: A big one, I’d say. I grew up enamored with Mark Vonnegut and Tom Robbins, and their styles imprinted deeply into me. In my opinion, there’s no better way to make sociopolitical commentary than through satirical fiction. It’s a language all of its own, a timeless way to present the times. It’s kind of like drawing a caricature of society, enlarging certain aspects and adding weird flourishes. And as for the absurd – everything is already so absurd these days, it only seemed natural to piggyback off of that. For me, there is terrific tension when you realize you are suddenly immersed in a world where anything can – and probably will – happen.
RG: Two months later, his wife had announced that she was having an affair with his best friend and leaving him. That was when Philip officially gave up on partaking in emotions altogether. He surrendered to the betraying nature of human beings, the crushingly individualistic, overwhelmingly capitalist society he lived in, and the numbness that the societal structure demanded in order to survive. He wanted nothing more to do with anything even slightly related to caring.
Underlying the wildness of the book is a sense of aching dissatisfaction, and your characters express mixed feelings on the world they inhabit. They are reared on devices, in therapy, struggling to relate to others on even a basic level, and hungering for intellectual stimulation. What do you view as the dark heart of the book?
JV: Ah, poor Philip… The psychotherapist who is tragically unable to fix himself. He does, however, make some attempt to break through his own walls eventually… I suppose the dark heart of the book is that humanity is pretty screwed, and things will surely get even more grim, but the truth is that we’ve never really figured it out, have we? No one can point to a time in which things were “sympatico” here on Earth. Even the dinosaurs seem to have done something fatally wrong, hah. So why not break through our innate discomfort and inherited despair to make our best, most honest and brave grab at joy that we can? We shouldn’t let anyone or anything repress our ability to do what we love and be who we truly are. It’s just like the Beastie Boys said, you have to fight for your right to party, you have to fight for your right to get a good vibe going and protect that flame.
RG: Ever since the Hollywood zombies had almost captured and converted Gerard into their gruesome and feral kind, he’d been on a junk food sex spree to end all junk food sex sprees. He’d gotten off with only a fractured ankle, and the titanium air-cast he wore to heal triple-time turned out to only help his game. Sympathy was apparently a major turn-on for some women. And he had major survival horniness. It all combined into one perfect sex storm and suddenly there weren’t enough women in the world to satisfy him.
Freaky characters mean freaky sex, and your characters approach this with gusto. How did you approach this aspect? Are there any scenes that didn’t make it into the book?
JV: Hey, now… Sounds like you want a Venice Peach “Deleted XXX Scenes” black-market chapbook, here. I guess I should get on that in case what’s already in the book isn’t spicy enough for *ahem* some people… No seriously, the coolest thing about publishing with an indie press is that 9 times out of 10, they are down to keep all the good parts. I’ve gotten lucky twice in that department. I’m someone who is always disappointed by authors who skip forward to the next morning right as a scene is getting good, so I like to “put out” in the literary sense. It’s all in there, baby. As for how I approached writing the dirty scenes, it’s hard to say. The sex lives of these characters feels like just another facet of their personalities that’s already there and I’m just pulling up the curtain.
RG: Do you have an ideal reader in mind when writing?
JV: I think most indie fiction writers are writing for their own amusement, then crossing their fingers and praying that what they enjoy is somewhat marketable and relatable to others. When shopping this book around, one small press told me it was “more on the commercial side” than what they publish. It weirdly gave me hope, even though it was still a rejection. Originally, I wrote this to compete with Netflix and HBO shows on an entertainment and pacing level, because let’s face it, they are the most popular storytelling platforms out there. It’s a good thing writers can easily compete with their budgets, as our imaginations can do anything for free.
RG: When you reflect on the writing of the book, what comes to mind? Are there associations of place, people or time?
JV: Absolutely. As mentioned, the first draft was born in the fall of 2016. I had shattered my leg skateboarding that previous spring and was finally somewhat healed, so there was a strong feeling of gratitude to be in motion, to have made it through that hard time. I was in love with the show Bojack Horseman, and had never before wished I had been in a writing room to that extent. I was working in production, and some of the people and experiences were inspirational to the book to some degree, so I will always remember what I was working on at the time.
RG: Venice Peach is released by Maudlin House. What attracted you to work with them and how have you found the process?
JV: I first came upon Maudlin House and publisher Mallory Smart through her very cool calling card; her podcast called Textual Healing. It’s all about the music we listen to while writing, and I was delighted when she agreed to have me on the show. It was spring of 2023 at the time, and I was gearing up for the release of my first novel, Secret Rules to Being a Rockstar, which is about dysfunctional Hollywood musicians in the 90s. It was a great chat, and Mallory was truly supportive of my mission. It left me with a feeling we should work together more. I was excited to blurb her music-centric book I Keep My Visions to Myself last year. Then we got together with two other authors who write about musicians, Claire Hopple and Kirsti MacKenzie, and recorded a group episode of the podcast Rock is Lit thanks to the amazing host Christy Alexander Hallberg. It only seemed like a natural fit, by this point, that my weird book with three musical main characters would find its rightful home at Maudlin House, a music-loving indie press with the motto “Keep Maudlin Weird.” Mallory and her partner (and husband) Bulent have been very open to my ideas on the cover design as well as interior edits. Publishing is such a grueling industry, so it feels like such a gift when you find people who are chill to work with, responsive, and down to go the distance to see your dream through.
RG: Fuck the future. Join the freak circus.
What’s next for you?
JV: I’m actually going to be living in the freak circus all summer… I’m also a drummer and my band Movie Club is going on a “Psychedelic Circus” tour to celebrate the book release. We have dates in Venice (Townhouse, 6/10), San Francisco (Make-Out Room, 6/11), Eugene (Sam Bond’s Garage, 6/12), Portland (No Fun Bar, 6/13), Seattle (Baba Yaga, 6/14), Olympia (The Crypt, 6/15), Bend (Silver Moon, 6/17), Santa Cruz (Sub Rosa, 6/18), and Culver City (Village Well, 7/12). We’re also producing a Maudlin House x Movie Club Musical Reading for the 40th anniversary of Printers Row in Chicago at Gallery Cabaret on Saturday, Sept. 6th, 2025. The event will feature over a dozen rockstar readers performing spoken word over Movie Club’s live instrumental rock n’ roll.
The goal behind these “Psychedelic Circus” events we’ve been putting on in Los Angeles (six pretty epic ones so far) is to incorporate a sense of broader community in live events, joining talents that usually get separated in one rocking variety show of sorts. Why shouldn’t writers get to read to live rock music? Or theremin players get to sit in for full band anthems alongside burlesque dancers? Each date will feature local special guest performances, plus I will be doing short readings from Venice Peach over ambient guitar. I hope to meet many fellow freaks fighting the future out on the road. Godspeed.