<%@ Language=VBScript %> <%response.buffer = TRUE%> D.A. Blyler
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D.A. Blyler

D.A. Blyler may very well be a modern-day Hunter S. Thompson. It would be hard to tell however, since Blyler resides on the fringes of society and, at 34, is just getting started. Maybe Blyler is ahead of his time and one day the Tyvek-wearing neo-Luddites of the future will look to Blyler’s rantings and adventures and set off on astro-powered Vespa scooters to recreate the expatriate's life in a made-for-television-movie.

In the meantime, be glad to know Blyler is very much alive and reveling in the world of letters on a banana plantation in Thailand. There he occasionally teaches English as a Second Language and more often scours the crowded streets of Thailand for eclectic bars, brothels, and cuisine in hopes of finding the true meaning of life.

FrictionMagazine sits down with D.A. Blyler to see what's on his mind. Download the interview. You will need Acrobat Reader. Get it here.

Drop D.A. Blyler an email.

Check out D.A. Blyler's debut novel, Steffi's Club.
Look for an excerpt in Friction Magazine Issue 1.
Or buy Steffi's Club here.
Read Marcus Reichert's review of Steffi's Club.


Columns:

Henry Miller, Ultraman, and Me
I know the question you're asking. Who in their right mind would make a connection not only between themselves and the legendary bohemian writer of Tropic of Cancer, but also the 1970s television superhero from Nebula M78? It's a valid question, and one that requires a bit of a story as way of explanation.

The Seven Vices of Highly Creative People
If you go through life free of bad habits, you won't live forever, but it will feel like it.

An Expatriate During the Days of War
When an American is caught on the other side of an ocean during war, things can be sticky. Free speech is one of those things.

Bangkok, Cheesesteaks, and Me
The sleepy provincial Thai town that I called home for the past 10 weeks offered little in the way of Western food or entertainment. Though a pleasant respite for someone tired of bowling alleys, strip malls, and 30-cent wing nights, I had a hankering deep inside. As they say, you can take the boy out of America but you can't take the American out of the boy and I was seriously craving some Western eats.



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