Priestdaddy

Father Lockwood has snuck into the Catholic priesthood despite being married and having kids. His road to Damascus moment was leagues under the sea in a nuclear submarine after watching The Exorcist which turned a once staunch atheist into a man of the cloth. He's still staunchly Republican, prone to farting, loves pork rinds, and lounging around in his underwear when he's not shredding on his collection of electric guitars he's decided to purchase instead of funding college for his kids. He's known to yell Hooo-eee, Jiminy Christmas and OHHH YEAHHHH while listening to Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly at peak volume, at the same time.

The titular Priestdaddy is quite the character and Lockwood is at her best when she's riffing about him, for example his guitar playing:
“It sounds like a whole band dying in a plane crash in the year 1972. He plays the guitar like he's trying to take off women's jeans, or like he's standing nude in the middle of a thunderstorm and calling down lightning to strike his pecs ...Some people are, through whatever mystifying means, able to make the guitar talk. My father can't do that, but he can do the following:
1. Make the guitar squeal
2. Make the guitar say no
3. Make the guitar falsely confess to murder
4. Make the guitar stage a filibuster where it reads The Hunt for Red October out loud”

Lockwood can turn a phrase. She's hilarious and quirky on the page and selfishly I just want her to keep on riffing. Like explaining milfs to the seminarian haunted by the concept, or discovering semen on the hotel bedsheets in the room she's sharing with her mother. Shifting gears to obliquely talk about the abuses of priests in church, her rape and attempted suicide, living near radioactive waste which rendered her incapable of having children and wrestling with anger — it's jarring. Still beautifully written but less sure. My attention starts to wane and I'm finding myself missing words, trained in her prior voice and familiar with the language of the profane and funny I'm adrift in the more serious and poetic. Still, like her mother, Patricia Lockwood loves language and it shows on the page.