How Starr Love Finally Came to Be
How The Book Finally Came to Be
Last week, I started writing about how I became me — the kid on Route 66, the teenager disappearing into the horizon, the young man learning that identity is something you perform until it feels true. I fully intended to continue that story this week. But something bigger happened over the weekend, something that deserves its own moment, I guess.
My new book came out.
And before I go any further down the road of my life story, I want to talk about how this one came to be — because the truth is, this book has been following me around for almost thirty years.
The First Spark
The very first spark for this story goes back to the mid‑90s, when my friend and musical hero Joe Christ started making movies more than he made music. Joe (aka Joe Danger from Los Reactors and G-Spot) was a Tulsa underground icon — the kind of guy who proved that anyone could release anything if they really wanted to. He was pure DIY energy. Punk filmmaking. Zero permission needed.
I used to joke that I wanted to die in one of his movies. Most people did. That was part of the charm. While I wasn’t much of an actor, I would have been so honored to have Joe kill me in one of his movies, lol.
I was also a huge John Waters fan, and while John’s films were less violent and had bigger budgets, they shared that same twisted humor and outsider spirit. Somewhere in that mix — Joe’s chaos, John’s camp, and my band Red Red Groove — I got the idea to write a story and pitch it to Joe. We’d star in it. We’d do the soundtrack. It would be messy and loud and fun… and we’d all die!
Life got busy. The story never got finished.
And when Joe passed away in 2009, the idea went quiet.
But it never really left.
What Part of Me Ended Up in This Book
There’s a lot of me in this story — more than I realized when I started writing it again.
Stu’s childhood singing?
Me.
The junior‑high and high‑school drama?
Also me.
The desire for fame, the itch to be seen, the belief that something bigger was waiting just outside the city limits?
Definitely me.
But Stu isn’t just me. He’s also the exaggerated version of what I see in America now — people chasing fame with no chance of catching it, people who believe visibility equals worth. I took the things I lived, mixed them with the things I’ve watched unfold on TV and online, and pushed them to an extreme.
And then there’s Jeff — the DJ and producer in the story.
That’s me too. Literally. I did DJ at The Max. I did produce Stu’s song. Some parts of your past just insist on showing up.
What Surprised Me While Writing
What surprised me most was how relevant the story felt now.
When I first imagined this in the 90s, it was satire.
Now it feels like a documentary.
We have a president obsessed with fame.
We have a culture obsessed with fame.
We have entire groups — political, religious, artistic — that behave like cults.
America has become a place where fame is treated like virtue, and where people will excuse almost anything if the person doing it is famous enough. Stu fits right into that world. Too well, honestly.
Why Now
My writing journey has been more intentional than it might look from the outside.
Strange Highways was a test — could I actually put the thoughts in my head onto a page?
Christmastime on the Beach was another experiment — could I turn a song into a full story?
Uncle Jeff’s Once Upon a Time was something I wanted to get out of the way before I moved into darker territory.
Those were clearing the runway.
This book — the Stu project — was the one that had been sitting in the back of my mind for decades. I just needed to finish it. And with the way our culture looks right now, the timing finally felt right.
What It Taught Me
It really drove home something I’ve thought for years: creatives take themselves way too seriously.
We agonize. We overthink. We wait for the perfect moment. But sometimes the most important thing you can do is finish the thing you started, even if it began as a joke, or a dream, or a half‑written script meant for a friend who’s no longer here. And honestly, no one else is stressing about our releases the way we do — it’s just a little game we play in our own heads.
Finishing this book was a nod to Joe.
A quiet one.
But a real one.
What I Hope Readers Feel
More than anything, I hope readers feel empathy for Stu.
Not pity or judgement.
Empathy.
He bought into the myth of fame and was destroyed by the machine that promised to make him whole. He’s not innocent, but he’s human. And I hope readers feel the discomfort of a world where someone like Stu might receive pardons simply because he’s too famous to be in prison.
I hope they catch the subtle commentary on what I think is flawed in American society today — the worship of fame, the hunger for spectacle, the way we elevate people who probably shouldn’t be elevated at all.
What’s Next
Next week, I’ll pick up where I left off in my life story — the part about becoming the guy who makes things. But for now, I wanted to give this book its moment. It’s been a long time coming.
And honestly, it feels good to finally let it out into the world. I hope you, too, enjoy it.
I’d Love to Hear From You
Since this book has been with me for so long, I’m genuinely curious:
What’s a creative idea you’ve carried around for years — something you haven’t finished yet, but still think about?
Or, if you’ve already read the book:
What part of Stu’s story hit you the hardest?
Feel free to drop your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to start building a real conversation here.
Jeff
PS: Here’s a picture of the first handwritten account of Starr Love that I wrote out in 1995. The story changed a bit, but this was the initial idea.
