The Forgotten Liars

A Novel by Timothy Horrigan

In 1979 Billy McEwan met Tammi Honig. He does not save her life, but perhaps she saves his. Thanks to her, he enjoys (or experiences, at least) many adventures on New York's Morningside Heights, back in the days when the City was still dangerous, dirty, and romantic, back in the days of punk rock, Thai stick, and Checker cabs. His adventures eventually lead him beyond the boundaries of the Upper West Side. He ventures far south of West 72nd Street and far north of West 125th Street, even as far afield as the San Fernando Valley...

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Publication Info :

Xlibris Corporation

phone: 1-888-795-4274

ISBN: 1-4134-5442-9
Softcover, 627 pp.
List Price: $28.95

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25 Random Excerpts, 1 from each chapter

  1. The Common Decencies

    • Frosty sat down on a bench on the 10-foot-wide median strip that runs down the middle of Upper Broadway. The median strip had many rose bushes on it, and the roses were just starting to bud out. Tammi's apartment was just around the corner, on a narrow side street that ran downward towards the Hudson River. He pulled out a 4x6 spiral-bound notebook from his jacket pocket and wrote Tammi a love letter. He wrote her a love letter every day. Tammi sneered at these letters and made fun of his cliches and dead metaphors, but Frosty kept on writing them. His excuse was that it was a good exercise for preventing writer's block.

  2. Death Trip 1979

    • Frosty started laughing softly, but not at Benjie's last remark. Rather, Frosty thought he saw someone playing with a helium-neon laser on top of the World Trade Center, projecting a 1000-times-lifesize hologram of Otis Redding onto the smog layer over the city. Frosty found the sight of a 6000-foot image of Otis Redding hanging over the world's largest city to be highly amusing.

  3. Twilight Jones And The Elvis Clones

    • The Block Party was sponsored by the fraternity council, ostensibly for the purpose of funding some public-minded activity or another. Actually it was just an excuse for todo el mundo to stand around in the street and drink beer. I used to enjoy helping clean up after the Block Party: the block would look like it had been struck by a blizzard of celluloid beer cups. The beer cups would be piled up literally 3 feet deep in the gutters. We shoveled the cups up with snow shovels into 30-gallon bags. In 1977, Martin "Doc" Thompson (head resident of Carman Hall) and I counted 325 black plastic bags of beer cups at the end of the evening.

  4. The Golden Road To Unlimited Devotion

    • Chad pointed me out to Tammi. They both cheered, threw their shrubs in the air, and ran over to me. They pulled me to my feet, and we joined hands and whirled around and around in a Dervish circle. The iridescent aluminum towers of the World Trade Center zoomed in front of my eyes once every 1.7 seconds.

  5. The Proper Degree Of Chaos And Darkness

    • Frosty walked out of Ruth's bedroom into the adjoining living room. There was no door in the door: just an opening. The party wall seemed to be covered on both sides with the same satiny wall-covering. "Oh no, it's still undulating!" he said out loud as he stared at the eastern wall of the living room. He started to feel dizzy.

  6. The Girl With the Beautiful Yams

    • The marijuana was a fragrant Christmas-tree variety (pine-green with dark red buds embedded in it) very expensive and very classy. Veronica slithered off the desk, and leaned out the window to admire his view of New York City. "What a gorgeous view! It's panoramic!" she exclaimed.

  7. The Portable Blake

    • I thought someone had sneaked into my room and was now sitting at the foot of my bed. The person smelled like coconut-oil. I assumed that I was hallucinating. I groped for my glasses. They were bent out of shape, and the plastic UniFit bridge was missing. My eyes were fogged over from the previous night's drunkenness, and the perspective through my glasses was skewed. I had to look at the person a couple times before I recognized her as Tammi Honig. "Hi, Billy," she said in a perky, matter-of-fact tone of voice

  8. On the Beach

    • We followed a circuitous route to Asbury Park along potholey highways that always had signs directing us to the Garden State Parkway (but we never actually saw the Parkway itself.) We stopped just once, at an isolated 7-11 in the midst of an invisible but foreboding swamp. Tammi and I stood in the brightly-lit entrance to the 7-11 and listened to a series of eldritch howls being howled somewhere out in the darkness of the swamp. Tammi said, "It's the coyotes, I bet. They've finally made it all the way to the East Coast."

  9. Punk! Punk! Punk!

    • I thought I heard something exploding outside, but I didn't worry. I just assumed I was hallucinating.

  10. Death to Karter

    • Tammi kissed me on the lips in front of the Eastern Air Shuttle terminal. It was only a brief lip-peck, but to me it felt like one of those sparkly, extended, delicious kisses you see in old black-and-white movies. "Have a great Thanksgiving," Tammi said as she gently pushed me out onto the sidewalk. "See you Saturday."

  11. The Brown Game

    • The stadium fell completely silent. I could actually hear a city bus grinding its gears on a steep city street across the Harlem River, in the Spuyten Duyvil section of the Bronx.

  12. A Five Ton Block of Bleachable Beef Tallow

    • "Are these blocks expensive?" I asked her as I moved closer to the block of fat to get a closer look. The fat was quite beautiful: it had the lambent opalescence of fine marble. I saw why we talk about steak being "marbled with fat." The guard glowered threateningly at me and began moving his hand towards his gun, so I backed away from the block of fat.

  13. Not Suitable for Our Needs at This Time

    • Mostly though, the Orange Bowl was sinister because of its logo: a gigantic, anthromorphized, cold-eyed, evilly-grinning orange that always reminded me of something I might see on a bad acid trip. This was one psychopathic-looking orange: I'm talking about the kind of orange that goes on serial-killing rampages, the kind of orange that would deliberately inject itself with mercury.

  14. We Live By Night

    • Matt wanted to talk about Course Guide business. (We hadn't had a chance to sit down since we came back from winter vacation.) But I (probably rather annoyingly) replied, "Oh, right now, the Course Guide just seems like a tiny speck of immaterial reality within the materiality of the larger metareality, if you know what I mean, the larger metareality of the universe as a whole."

  15. Feeling Blue

    • A delicate pearly-gray haze hung over the Hudson River. "See that fog?" I said enthusiastically. "That's part of a sphere of thoughts, dreams, ideas, and whatnot created by the collective mental processes of all us sentient beings here on earth. You can only actually see it right at dawn, but it's always there." (I was bullshitting, of course: the haze was just a normal morning fog.) "This is the NOOSPHERE!"

  16. The Bells of Corpus Christi

    • Instead of going straight to the BHR vestibule, we made a slight detour. We turned right instead of left at the gateway, and sat on a bench in front of a statue of a peplos-clad virgin who was carrying a javelin. The statue was seriously corroded. "Acid rain," Tammi explained. "I feel kind of guilty about this, personally, since most of the acid in the acid rain here in New York comes from smokestacks in Detroit."

  17. No Stravinsky During the Tea-Party

    • I handed her the present, but first she made me sit on the bed beside her, and she put her arm around me. We sat together for about half an hour without doing anything except munching Passover matzos.

  18. What I Can't Feel

    • "This is total crap. I've read Hallmark greeting cards that were better than this. I mean, take an image like 'The fog came in on little cat feet.' That's sentimental garbage: it doesn't tell the truth, and moreover it just isn't very good. Even Dylan Fyfe could do better than that."

  19. Zelda's Fountain

    • I could see her reflection, but I couldn't see my own. I wanted to say something, but I could not speak.

  20. Ghost Train

    • Tammi was sleeping next to the softly-rumbling typewriter, with her head resting against the table. I examined her face carefully. Most people look peaceful when they're sleeping, but tonight Tammi looked even more troubled than she usually did while awake.

  21. Exam Week

    • I hadn't been listening very intently to Byron's and Genevieve's conversation: instead I had been staring up at the REINHOLD NIEBUHR PLACE street-sign below the regular W 120 STREET sign. I was trying to remember who Reinhold Niebuhr was. Genevieve looked up and saw the same pair of street-signs. "Let Reinhold Niebuhr worry about Tammi! Whoever the hell he is." Then Byron started to tell us who he was.

  22. A Joy For Ever

    • We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around in a seemingly aimless fashion, dropping small bundles of records and tapes at ugly doors in some of the scariest Loisaida tenements imaginable. "Don't worry about the junkies," Charles remarked. "It's the record reviewers you really have to look out for."

  23. Victory Is Within Our Grasp

    • She was wearing the same outfit as the night before, but it was wrinkled and stained. She had a different, muskier smell than usual. She sat down next to me, and without even saying hello, she abruptly said "I slept with the Senator last night."

  24. The October Surprise

    • A map of Hawaii appeared behind the newsreader's head, along with Carter's smiling face in a box off the coast of the Big Island. Then we were shown a chart which indicated that Hawaii had finally been called for Carter: with 96% of the precincts in, he was ahead by 2000 votes.

  25. Morning in America

    • This time, though, the Pinhead's sign just said, "GABBA GABBA", and Tammi came out, also dressed in a red and white smock (but no mask), carrying a sign which said "HEY!" The crowd went nuts: I had been to a dozen or so Ramones show by this point, but I had never heard such Gabba Gabba Heying.

Seven Longer Excerpts

Wow! I Wanna Get a Copy of the Book!

Hey, Man! There's Nothing Here About the Smashing Pumpkins!

Not to worry, I do have a page about them!

The Heart Beats
And one about The Heart Beats as well...

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Get some iTunes to listen to while reading the book...

 [Oct. 15, 2008]: When Sarah Palin came to Dover, NH on October 15, 2008, I attempted to promote my novel The Forgotten Liars by handing out flyers urging her to ban it.

You can download the flyer in PDF format from:

The flyer urged its readers to visit this URL:

It Hit Me Like a Ton of Bricks: A Memoir of a Mother and Daughter

One of my friends from the period depicted in The Forgotten Liars, the actress and screenwriter Catherine Lloyd Burns, has just published a memoir entitled It Hit Me Like a Ton of Bricks.  It covers some of the same ground as my book, though it's mostly about what happened before and after.  For me, and for my fictional alter ego, the early 1980s were an amusing adventure.  For Cathy Burns, it was the low point of her life.  In any case, please buy and read her book!

How to Buy The Forgotten Liars

Publication Info :

Forgotten Liars cover

The Forgotten Liars: the Tammi Honig Story by Timothy Horrigan

Copyright © 2004 Timothy Horrigan

ISBN: 1-4134-5442-9
Softcover, 627 pp.
List Price: $28.95

Philadelphia, PA: Xlibris Corporation
phone: 1-888-795-4274

I definitely hope to make some personal appearances at bookstores, etc. at some point, and I would of course have books for sale at such events. If you have any questions email me.

 In June 2005, I donated five copies to the 2005 Northfield Mount Hermon School annual alumni auction. I (or— more accurately— the winning bidders) raised $450.00 for NMH. I was only going to donate one copy, but I brought a few extra with me to my 30th reunion, and one thing led to another...


The best way to get my book is from a local independent bookseller.

If the store doesn't have my book in stock, simply give them the ISBN (1-4134-5442-9), etc. above and they will be happy to track it down. (See below for comments on wholesale sales.) The list price is $28.99. I know that's not cheap, but it's worth it! The books are (generally) printed as needed (hence the term "Print on Demand"), and are very nicely produced trade paperbacks; if you are in Europe, your book can be printed in Britain.

On-Line Booksellers:

There are many places where my book is available on-line. The best way, from my perspective, is for you to order it directly from Xlibris. (I get the largest royalty that way.) Go to this web page to buy my book:
Single copy discount price: US$24.64 + Shipping.
(Standard shipping for one copy is approximately $4.00.)

And then there are the various online booksellers. The prices vary significantly, so you may want to shop around.

Here are links to a few of my book's listings. The resellers are listed roughly in order of how often I myself patronize them:


I must confess that I know less than I ought to about the mechanics of ordering books wholesale. The simplest way to get the book for your book store is to order it from the Ingram Book Company, a leading book wholesaler. Baker & Taylor is another wholesaler which carries my book. The books will usually be printed by Lightning Source, using print-on-demand technology. The quality of the printing is as good as or better than most trade paperbacks on the shelf at your local bookstore. Many of those books are printed using the same technology as mine.

My book is also available from Xlibris. The Order Department's email address is You can also telephone them at +1 (888) 795 4274 (toll-free from North America only) or at +1 (215) 923 4686 (from anywhere on Planet Earth, as well as from the Space Station Mir.)

Other Stuff:

Check out my "Other Works" page for more stuff you can buy which I contributed to (if only in a small way.)

These include:


The Forgotten Liars

Other Works

Random Stuff


Contact Info