John Blowers
Life on Tilt is a novel about those interests that have equal potential to complete or destroy us. Whether it’s another person, a hobby or a faith, each of us has consuming passions that, if left unexplored, would leave us unfulfilled; if explored too thoroughly, though, they could jeopardize everything else we hold dear. It's a delicate balance. Poker is the telescope through which to explore this universal tension, and the game is used throughout the novel as a catalyst for change, conflict and character development.
The protagonist, Johnnoe Zandoken, is leading a double life. He is part family man, part poker aficionado. As his marriage withers and his poker prowess grows, this conflict worsens. Will he risk his fragile marriage to pursue his dream of participating in the richest sporting event in history? Will the freshness and allure of the poker world trump his comfortable home life? Will he turn to a flirtatious Russian model for escape? Will he reconcile his unquenchable ambition with his personal and professional commitments? Most importantly, will he decide what really matters before all his options are gone?
John Blowers is the creative force behind Life on Tilt. He is a semi-professional writer and poker player. Semi because he has a “real job” and professional because he’s made some money at both hobbies. Creating a fictional autobiography requires equal parts chutzpah and fantasy…something John never finds himself short of. He looks forward to documenting Johnnoe Zandoken’s further adventures in the sequel Life After Tilt.
John has written several short stories, some poetry, a murder-mystery game and a short play. This is his first full-length novel.
I am so thoroughly capable that it terrifies me. I am preprogrammed to excel. Despite my best efforts, I am unable to fail. I accomplish great things, yet each achievement leads me a step closer to absolute self-destruction. I have what I want, but I need what I don’t have. And when I get it, I punish myself for it. There will never be enough to pacify the insatiable beast within. It’s not a burning desire or a consumptive passion: I have no sense of purpose, but only a pointless drive to destroy. Destroy myself. Destroy my family. Destroy anything or anyone who helped create me. I don’t want to succeed. I just want to exit—as quickly and painlessly as possible.
“Action to you, sir.”
Story of my life…
I survey the table: seven men of various ages and social strata, and one elderly woman in the process of losing this month’s social security check. Players sitting out the hand are usually divided into two groups—those studying the active players for moves they might try out in a later hand, and those more interested in watching TV, eating or talking. However, I now see eight pairs of eyes looking squarely at me, plus the dealer’s, who is now repeating, “Action to you, sir”—this time with added emphasis. Time stands still as I consider the situation at hand.
Then there are all the things I’m not considering. I’m not considering my soon-to-be ex-wife of ten years who called this morning to wish me luck in the biggest poker event ever, then sighed and complained that our family wasn’t the biggest thing in my life. I’m not considering our ten-month separation, or the semi-affair that pushed all the chips onto the table, calling my bluff. I’m not considering our twin boys or my daughter, whom my estranged wife refers to as “her children,” nor am I considering their sweet voices, so eager to wish Daddy good luck with the game. I’m also not considering the lavishly-endowed room-service girl who knocked at my door this morning in the middle of the call, or how I doubled the bill as a tip when she expressed great interest in my poker playing abilities. I’m not considering the job I used to have or the life I used to lead. Right now, I’m just considering the game, the players, the cards…the situation.
