Simply excellent
How I Bartered with God: A novel
At a sun-soaked wedding in a foreign town, one irreverent guest shows up armed with nothing but a flask, a pack of smokes, and a razor-sharp eye for hypocrisy. In How I Bartered with God, Michael Phallan tears through every hollow prayer and syrupy vow, exposing faith as theater and rebellion as salvation. Equal parts dark comedy and blistering social critique, this debut novel is a savage, ash-streaked tour of ritual undone. A confessional you’ll be reluctant to close.
Who should read
Whether you’ve sat through one too many toasts or traded confessions for cocktails, How I Bartered with God delivers a blistering, ash-streaked ride through ritual undone. Perfect for anyone hungry for a laugh, a wince, and a little spiritual havoc.
What You'll Experience
Forget polite wedding dramas. How I Bartered with God detonates the pageantry of faith with a narrator who treats every sermon like target practice.
Unfiltered Satire
A no-holds-barred takedown of every hollow prayer, syrupy vow, and church-aisle cliché.
Visceral Rebellion
From a Smoker’s Soliloquy to “Out the Doors of Damnation,” taste the burn of sacred rituals undone.
Raw Confession
A blistering first-person testament in ash, whiskey, and razor-sharp wit, no holy water required.
Excerpts I figured you may enjoy
Avoid at all costs if you want to steer clear of ruining the fun for yourself. You've been warned.
Gazing out of the small-pane window at the endless canals and fields, I felt like a God figure moving toy pieces—until I realized they’d drag me, a pawn, into a wedding I’d rather drink myself blind than attend. If I were God, I’d have crashed this plane just to spare myself the sermon.
Smoking is disgusting, I am sure we all agree. But smoking is the most abusively beautiful relationship I have ever had. Remembering only the romantic drags, not the brown sludge you coughed up at dawn or how your lungs threatened mutiny, yet you still drew from it like your life depended on it.
They bellowed ‘God have your way with me’ as hands shot skyward in worship, and I nearly hurled at the vision of an open-orgy invitation featuring every soul in that church. A cynical laugh escaped me—one whiff of that preacher’s ‘blessed release’ and I’d have pitched him off the altar myself.
I’m just sayin’, you wouldn’t pick an asshole to represent you, not in court, not in business, and sure as hell not in matters of the eternal soul. It’s basic logic: you don’t hire a thief to guard your vault, so why let a hypocrite hold the keys to heaven?
Love isn't really a mystery, a complex puzzle that needs solving. One day you find a person, and the pieces slide together without friction. I do think that's beautiful, and I am glad to witness it today.
The moment I crossed the threshold, stepping back into 'God's domain' the music hit me like an oncoming tsunami. It was in full, ear-splitting swing, blasting indiscriminately across the same speakers that had earlier, with far more reverence, carried forth the tedious writings and musings of Jesus as the devoted followers sung and prayed their hearts out in various states of off-key enthusiasm.
Gazing out of the small-pane window at the endless canals and fields, I felt like a God figure moving toy pieces—until I realized they’d drag me, a pawn, into a wedding I’d rather drink myself blind than attend. If I were God, I’d have crashed this plane just to spare myself the sermon.
Smoking is disgusting, I am sure we all agree. But smoking is the most abusively beautiful relationship I have ever had. Remembering only the romantic drags, not the brown sludge you coughed up at dawn or how your lungs threatened mutiny, yet you still drew from it like your life depended on it.
They bellowed ‘God have your way with me’ as hands shot skyward in worship, and I nearly hurled at the vision of an open-orgy invitation featuring every soul in that church. A cynical laugh escaped me—one whiff of that preacher’s ‘blessed release’ and I’d have pitched him off the altar myself.
I’m just sayin’, you wouldn’t pick an asshole to represent you, not in court, not in business, and sure as hell not in matters of the eternal soul. It’s basic logic: you don’t hire a thief to guard your vault, so why let a hypocrite hold the keys to heaven?
Love isn't really a mystery, a complex puzzle that needs solving. One day you find a person, and the pieces slide together without friction. I do think that's beautiful, and I am glad to witness it today.
The moment I crossed the threshold, stepping back into 'God's domain' the music hit me like an oncoming tsunami. It was in full, ear-splitting swing, blasting indiscriminately across the same speakers that had earlier, with far more reverence, carried forth the tedious writings and musings of Jesus as the devoted followers sung and prayed their hearts out in various states of off-key enthusiasm.
Pre-order Bonus #1
Exclusive T-Shirt
Get comfortable and confrontational. Rock your "God should have been a woman" tee and get an out-in-public climax. Wear the manifesto and spread the gospel of the lord, me.
Pre-order Bonus #2
Exclusive short story
Get access to a never-before-published scene delivered as a DRM-free PDF. Fresh off the cutting-room floor, it dives deeper into ash-flicked confessions and razor-sharp wit to keep you dancing in defiance.
Pre-oder Bonus #3
MP Cigarette Case
Ditch the vapes, be old-school cool. Metal cool to the touch and packed with a statement. For non-smokers, you can stack it with your pencil collection for all I care.
Book author
Michael Phallan
Michael Phallan is the kind of writer who would argue with God… and win. Born on the wrong side of Sunday school and raised on cheap rum and crumpled typewritten pages, he fled adolescent faith camp drunk on rebellion—and straight into a lifelong, pleasantly toxic affair with cigarettes.
He’s the author your pastor warned you about and the pen name your therapist recommends. Lives wherever with exactly one functioning radiator, an ever-present flask, and a ghostly Twitter following.
Frequently asked questions
Is How I Bartered with God a memoir or fiction?
It's a work of fiction. A darkly satirical novel narrated in first person. While the voice feels confessional, the story, characters, and events are invented to expose ritual, hypocrisy and rebellion.
What genre is this book?
Equal parts satire, dark humor, and contemporary literary fiction. If you love Catch-22’s absurdity, Vonnegut’s wit, or Palahniuk’s edge, you’ll feel right at home.
When and where does it take place?
The action unfolds over one weekend at a lavish wedding in a sun-drenched European town. A palatial estate by canals, with airport arrivals, grand ceremonies, and a raucous after-party.
What formats are available?
Hardcover, trade paperback, ebook. Audiobook pre-orders open soon.
Where can I get more news and author updates?
Sign up for the newsletter on this site to receive bonus scenes, behind-the-scenes stories, and early access to events. You can also follow Michael Phallan on Bluesky and Instagram for real-time riffs and release countdowns.
Can I get a signed copy of the book?
Yes. Be specific with your syrupy request and drop me a line as part of your pre-order, and I will get it sorted.
This website is not part of the Facebook website or Facebook Inc. Additionally, this site is not endorsed by Facebook in any way. Facebook is a trademark of Facebook, Inc. We use Google remarketing pixels/cookies on this site to re-communicate with people who visit our site and ensure that we are able to reach them in the future with relevant messages and information. Google shows our ads across third party sites across the internet to help communicate our message and reach the right people who have shown interest in our information in the past.