The romance novel market is capitalizing on the world of mixed martial arts, finally merging males aged 18-34 demographic with the ever-valuable “single middle-aged women with at least two cats.”  An author named Lori Foster has written My Man, Michael, and it sounds a-maaaaaaa-ziiiiinnnngggg.

MY MAN, MICHAEL proves you can be both a lover and a fighter! Combining mixed martial arts, romance and time travel!

I think I speak for everyone when I say, “Finally, someone has written the book America has waited for.”

Michael thinks an injury will keep him from fighting again until a woman shows up and promises to heal him. But, he must travel with her and teach a community of woman warriors to fight in return. Imagine Michael’s surprise when she fulfills her end of the bargain and finds that, to fulfill his he must travel into the future!

Oh baby.  I have gotten a glimpse of the future, and It.  Looks.  Sexy.

[Cage Potato]

Kenny Mayne has written a book, and he has the website to prove it.  An Incomplete & Inaccurate History of Sport (on sale April 22nd) is written in the same sardonic fashion that propelled Mayne to fame on SportsCenter, and will likely appeal to the Venn diagram of fans who enjoy both Mayne on TV and reading.

In what is either a savvy marketing move or an act of desperation, Mayne has lowered himself to be interviewed by the blogging proletariat, which explains why I got the opportunity to speak to him over the phone last Wednesday.  In part one of the interview, I asked Mayne about the book, partly because I'd been intrigued by what I'd read so far, but mostly because that's the whole point of him granting interviews in the first place.  Hey, I know how to play ball.

The interview has been edited slightly for clarity and brevity.  After the jump, read us talking.

Kenny Mayne: So, did the publisher send you a copy? 

With Leather: I have a copy here in my hands.  I've actually read the first 26 or 27 pages of it.

KM: That's good.  It goes downhill at page 28 or 29.

WL: Okay, I won't get my hopes up.  Before we begin, I should be clear that I don't aspire to be a journalist, and the only thing that's ever resembled an interview on With Leather was when I went to a reading by [former NBA center] John Amaechi, and afterwards we went to a gay bar, so that's the level that we're working at.

KM: [laughs] Perfect.

WL: So, can you just go ahead and give me the standard summation of the book that you're prepared to give ad nauseam as you promote it?

KM: Originally I started out with the intent to make it similar to Jon Stewart's [America: The Book], but it just started turning into something else.  I didn't know what I was writing, but I kept writing. Some chapters really are a fake history, and some I just talk about how Starbucks is charging me too much for coffee [Ed: The chapter on Aussie Rules football swerves immediately and permanently onto the topic of tipping].  My agent, who I've never met, convinced me to write a book, and I ended up believing him.  And I got about halfway into it, and it's like, "You know, it's not terrible. I've seen worse books."  And I thought, "I might as well keep going."

WL: I noticed there are several artwork contributions from your daughters. How much money do you think you saved by [foregoing illustrators]?

KM: Probably a lot.  [But] the girls were happy with their rate of pay, and if the books sells well I'll give them a bonus.  Annie, the younger one, gave two-thirds of hers to children in Sierra Leone; she's very philanthropic.  The church that we go to has ties to Sierra Leone, because — you know the story of the Amistad?

WL: Yes. [Ed: My family watched the movie one Christmas.  Great pick, Mom.  Real cheerful flick.]

KM: And I can't remember if it was before or after their trial, but John Adams was their attorney, and it all worked out for them, and [our church] was sort of a shelter for them.  So Annie just forked over $100 on Day 1, which is pretty admirable.

WL: Wow, that really is.  I don't have a snappy comeback for that at all.

KM: Yeah, it was really charming.  I was like, "You know, you can give five dollars," and she was like, "No, I wanna give the whole thing."  She was probably trying to knock down her taxes.

WL: What is the ratio of photographs to pictures drawn by your daughter [in the book]?

KM: Um, pretty close to equal.  There's no real rhyme or reason.  Ichiro makes an appearance early, and there's no real reason; I just happen to like him.  I put in some players — football being my favorite sport — I put in the holy trinity of Favre and Brady and Joe Montana.  And there's a couple others that sort of match what I'm talking about [in the book].  There's no rhyme or reason to any of it, it's just so people buy the book without any forethought.  People buy other impulse things.  I try to relate it to, I think book prices are kinda high for the average guy.

WL: Yeah, especially in Canada, as you mention [in the book].

KM: Indeed.  But then you compare it to, nobody loses any sleep going out with friends and throwing $20 bills around.  So then you do that one less time, you should be okay.

WL: So if people can give up getting drunk once, they can buy your book? 

KM: Indeed.  I'm not much of a drinker, but it's funny when you actually break it down what we do and don't waste money on.  Same thing when you work for whatever company, and they spend money like drunken sailors on one case, and then cut back on paper clips in another.  But, that's off the subject.

WL: I noticed that most of the book's writing is in short, declarative sentences.  Would you say that you're inspired by Ernest Hemingway, or is that more attributed to the UNLV education?

KM: [laughs] I think I have deeper thoughts than what I express in the book, but I went for an economy of words — brevity being the key to wit.

WL: It's definitely your voice.  All right, do you feel that's enough questions about your book?  Have we plugged it sufficiently?

KM: However you wanna spear this.  It comes out on April 22nd, try to get that in there.

Check back tomorrow for part two, in which I ask Kenny Mayne a bunch of questions that make me look like a jackass.  MORE of a jackass, I mean.

As noted elsewhere, I'm a big fan of the holidays.  I also have a lot of friends and colleagues whose work I've long wanted to review and support but have never gotten around to doing.  2 + 2 = With Leather's last-minute holiday gift guide for fans.  Unless stated otherwise, all are book titles.  Because you don't read enough, asshole.

Vintage College Football Calendars (Asgard Press) — As pictured here, it's the sort of present you can get for a die-hard fan that says, "I care about your interests and recognize your fandom, but I still prefer giving you tasteful gifts."

Playboy Cover to Cover: the '50s — I love old-school Playboy because it makes it socially acceptable to look at pictures of naked women.  This monster of a gift includes a re-print of Playboy's first issue (including Marilyn Monroe nude), a glossy book with insider details about the rise of Hugh Hefner's empire, and a searchable digital archive of a decade of Playboys.  Guaranteed to make your masturbation extra classy.

The Agony of Victory (Steve Friedman) — This book was resolutely panned by a panel of bloggers last week at Deadspin, which (a) shouldn't come as a surprise given Deadspin commenters' proclivity for shitting on anything that approaches sincerity, and (b) is too bad, because I really enjoyed the book.  It stands apart from typically staid sports journalism thanks to Friedman's stylish writing, focus on lonelier "fringe" sports, and personal touches. It's a unique and powerful look at the blurred line between mental illness and a champion's mentality.

The View from the Upper Deck (DJ Gallo) –  The author of SportsPickle.com and the lion's share of funny material on ESPN.com's Page 2, Gallo delivers his hallmark Onion-like humor in easy-to-carry book form.  With headlines like "Allen Iverson Keeps It Real for Record 2,548th Straight Day," no one captures the rote and repetitive stories of the sports world and twists them into pitch-perfect satire quite like Gallo.

Dixieland Delight: A Really Long Title About SEC Football (Clay Travis) — Sportsline columnist Travis, a lifelong Tennessee Volunteers fan, spent an autumn going to a game at every stadium in the SEC.  A Vanderbilt-educated lawyer who married an NFL cheerleader, Travis still somehow comes across as likable as he immerses himself in the half-scary, half-hilarious world of college football's most rabid fans.

UFC chief Dana White must have a better awareness of his fan base than I do, because the dude is selling a a coffee table book about he UFC for $3500.  Complex Blog has the run-down, plus an interview with White himself.

The UFC’s new limited edition book, Octagon, features over 800 photographs of UFC fighters inside the cage as well as licking their wounds in the locker room. The regular collector’s edition goes for $2,500. Tack on another grand if you want the Deluxe Edition that comes with photographs you can pull from the book and frame. [...]

Complex: What did you guys do to differentiate Octagon from other 50-pound coffee table books covered in fake blood?
Dana White: Wait until you hold the book and actually see it. The cover actually feels like the canvas when you touch the book. It feels like a real canvas. I seriously was blown away by it. I’m not going to try to sell the fucking thing at all. There’s 600 of them, they’re going to be gone like that. I’m telling you, the book is seriously impressive. It’s impressive.

I love that books are selling for exorbitant prices because they have glossy pictures and feel nice.  I'm so glad I became a writer. "I'm sorry, but I just don't see how you can charge several thousand dol- [picks up book] — holy shit!  This feels like the canvas!  I'll take it!"

So apparently the most sheltered retards in wannabe exclusive Northeast private schools like Vassar and Middlebury College are playing quidditch, the made-up game from the Harry Potter books.  Yes, the same game that requires flying around on a broom and a tiny magic ball that flies around of its own volition.  Ugh, this whole thing reeks of poindextrose.  At least Dungeons & Dragons games were confined to basements.  

Listen, I don't want to say that adults or near-adults who are fascinated with a children's book series are pathetic losers.  That would be too kind.  If you want to read literature written for ten-year-olds, at least challenge yourself with The Da Vinci Code or something. 

People say a lot of bad things about frat boys, but I, for one, would love to see some popped Abercrombie collars and feathered bangs beating the shit out of these people.

[Deuce of Davenport] 

Broncos kicker Jason Elam and his pastor have teamed up to write Monday Night Jihad.  No, it's not a TV show — although I'd watch it as long as Kornheiser wasn't providing commentary — it's a novel.  Specifically, a pro-football-themed spy thriller about fighting terrorists.  It's sure to be…

…A story that combines all the action of a first-rate spy thriller with the intrigue of professional sports. After a tour of duty in Afghanistan, Riley Covington is living his dream as a professional linebacker when he comes face-to-face with a radical terrorist group on his own home turf. Drawn into the nightmare around him, Riley returns to his former life as a member of a special ops team that crosses oceans in an attempt to stop the source of the escalating attacks.

But time is running out, and it soon becomes apparent that the terrorists are on the verge of achieving their goal: to strike at the very heart of America.

Oh yes, this is all very real.  There's plenty more of the crazy here (including a book excerpt), but I don't think I can top Arrowhead Pride's pitch-perfect take on Elam:

He's like Dan Brown and Kirk Cameron had a love child and it was raised by Howie Long with nothing but choose your own adventure books. In a sense he's equating the NFL to the Knights Templar.

Meanwhile, a true story about combat NOT co-written by a pastor is presently sitting on my hard drive, and it's been rejected by ten publishers.  That's not a joke, but it certainly is funny.  I guess mine needed more linebackers.

[Also see: I Dislike Your Favorite Team; 100% Injury Rate]