New Recovering The Self...

My Recovering The Self piece is up for September. I hope you enjoy it.

This month it's about running your own race and you can find it by clicking this link.

24-Hour Bite Me…

Here’s a secret: I hate 24-Hour Fitness Center. Wait… that’s not a secret. I really HATE 24-Hour Fitness Center.

The locations near me always smell. The bathrooms are never clean – sometimes, they’re not even functioning. The machines are always crowded or broken. It’s a fucking dump. They always have Faux News on the TV screens, no matter how nicely you ask them to change the channel!

That’s why I stopped going a couple of years back, because they were just ludicrous. The idea that I would drive far away to exercise at a place I hated going to – it led me to jogging and cycling in the real world. And, you know what? I love that! I have never once looked back!

But Vicky has insisted that I keep my membership. “You never know,” she says, as year after year passes and month of dues after month of dues gets thrown away.

Today, I just got sick of it and decided to cancel my membership. Turns out, you can’t cancel online. You have to call a special number… then, you have to hold… forever… And you have to listen to this insipid hold message about how you’re being provided excellent service – even though you’re obviously not – repeated over and over and over again! I held for 15 minutes before someone picked up…

… and hung up on me!

Mother fuck!

So, I called back. Then, I held for 30 minutes before someone picked up and asked, “Why are you cancelling today?” To which I replied, “If I didn’t have a reason before the nightmare of being on hold, I have one now.”

I don’t want to sound bitter but I hate those fucking cocksuckers….

A Hex To Save Rynia - Book One of the Sons of Rynia Trilogy - available now for all e-readers!...

Hey folks,

It's e-book release time again! Today sees the release of A Hex To Save Rynia, which is the first book of the forthcoming Sons of Rynia trilogy.

A Hex Upon Rynia was just the beginning. The Sons of Rynia trilogy kicks off with Tsurtor’s return, dragons, a conspiracy against the king, and a war-ravaged planet. When Hex is imprisoned back on Earth, will there be A Hex To Save Rynia?


You can find A Hex To Save Rynia for the Kindle on Amazon.com right here!
You can also find A Hex To Save Rynia for all e-readers through Smashwords right here!

I hope you enjoy it and hope you honor me with your kind reviews.

My place has always been in the theater…

I’ve been waiting weeks to make this big announcement, as strings were pulled and tied and cut and strung behind the scenes: I have been offered and have accepted the position of Literary Manager at Hunger Artists Theatre in Fullerton.

This is a great opportunity. Not only will it result in more of my work being produced but it also brings me back to my home: the theater.

As many of you know, I started acting in theater over thirty years ago and have flirted with it back and forth since then. Now, I’m back to act to work and, most of all, to write.

You’ll be hearing much more about Hunger Artists on this blog moving forward as this will be my new home. And hope it will remain so for a very long time.

So goes the microwave…

Our microwave oven died this weekend.

Actually, it may have begun its slow descent prior to that. Its death way a slow one and, I like to think, painless. The first signs were when it took me 10 minutes to nuke a burrito. After Vicky tried three bags of microwave popcorn until she realized it might not have been the popcorn that was the problem, we knew our microwave oven was doomed.

That’s when reality set in.

Before, we’d say, “Let’s go get a new microwave oven. They’re only like a hundred bucks. Let’s go get one.”

But with me being unemployed again, that changed into, “Wait a minute. What are we going to do? We can’t just go get another microwave oven. Those things are like a hundred bucks. We can’t afford that!”

The next day, I got a flat on my bike and used my last inner tube to fix it. Now, I can’t go cycling until I get a new tube – unless I really want to risk getting a flat. This morning, I found out the muffler on my car is shot.

Meanwhile – and, please, let me remind you again – I’m unemployed. I can’t so much as get an interview at Costco! (But, you know, here’s hoping…) I know Vicky deserves better than this but I there’s not a whole lot I can do. I already apply to every job I can find. On top of that, I’m scrambling to get more books online for sale, to get a play produced, to get publishers to notice me – I can’t do anything more.

I’m what you might call a victim of this shitty economy. And it sucks.

I have no real point to this, by the way. In case you’re wondering for the great reveal that gives the surprise ending – like “ta da”, I got a job – I don’t have one. I’m just feeling pretty shitty and I thought I’d share…

Once Upon a Fart...

Have you ever considered that at any given moment you're probably breathing in someone else's fart?

Think about it. If you're in an elevator with someone who farts, you're bound to do it.

If you're in a room with several people and one of them farts, you're going to do it.

If you're in a building with a hundred people and ten of them fart, it's inevitable.

In a world full of billions of people, each of them farting in an enclosed atmosphere... well, you're pretty much stuck doing it.

How's it feel? Does it feel good?

... pervert...

OC-Centric opens soon!...

In less than two weeks, OC-Centric (Orange County’s newest new play festival) opens at Chapman University. OC-Centric will feature my play, Myth of the Cubicle, along with several other fine works.
Be sure to buy your tickets soon! OC-Centric runs from 8/19 - 8/28!
The Myth of the Cubicle by Ken La Salle – In an absurd office of drones and burnouts, a young employee sees beyond the veil of illusion and tries to awaken his fellow wage slaves.

Greatest hits of Summer 2011…

Here I am, back from my month-long siesta!

I suppose I should start at the beginning with the biggest hits of the last month, those being when my car was hit and the subsequent hit to my head.

It’s not a long story. I was heading to the store one afternoon when I had to make a left-hand turn at an intersection, heading northbound to eastbound. I stopped at the red light and, when the light turned green, pulled into the intersection to start my turn. There was a UPS driver on the other side of the intersection and I was waiting to see if he was driving straight through or if he would turn left as well. Just then, out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a car blaze through the intersection coming westbound, past the other cars stopped at the light. I only had time to think, “He’s going to hit,” when the car slammed into the front of my Honda Civic at no less than 45 mph, taking off the front of my car before it slid to a stop with a broken front axle.

The impact slammed my head against the door frame and, for a second, I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. A bystander named Cameron helped me out of my car and walked me to the curb. I wasn’t bleeding or broken but I was shaking badly. I could barely lie on the concrete before the shaking became uncontrollable. Still, I had the presence of mind to call Vicky and tell her, “I’ve been in an accident and I don’t think I’ll be driving away from it. Can you come get me?”

This is where things got funny, though not funny “ha ha”. The ambulance arrived after witnesses called 911 and checked the passengers of the other car, two old people in a Mercedes. After determining the old people were okay, the ambulance left. As the drivers boarded their car, I was so shocked they didn’t bother to ask if I was okay, I joked, “Thanks for stopping by!”

The police arrived to take statements and, again, rather than ask if I was okay – I was beginning to feel very nauseated at this point – one asked if I could move my car, which now lay in pieces in the middle of the intersection. Surprisingly, it was drivable, if barely. I moved it to the curb. The female cop taking the statements got statements from the two witnesses to the effect that the Mercedes ran the red light. I said the Mercedes ran the red light. With it being three to one against the other driver, you’d think…

Nope, the female cop came back and asked me, “Why were you running the red light?”

“I wasn’t,” I told her, giving my statement again.

She went back to the old people in the Mercedes and, when she returned to me, insisted, “Well, it’s clear you ran the red light.” And I insisted again that I hadn’t, reminding her that the two witnesses supported my side of the story. At this point, she gave up and just sneered at me.

The Mercedes and my Honda were both towed away and Vicky took me home, insisting that I should have gone to the hospital. At this point, I was hurting quite a bit and nauseated so I agreed that Vicky could ask my doctor what was best at this point. My doctor said I should go to the hospital.

Off we went. At St. Joseph, I was feeling increasingly disoriented to the point where they had to put me into a wheelchair and (according to Vicky’s account) I pretty much lost it. I became completely disoriented, which prompted the hospital to check me in pretty fast. Back to the ER, I was wheeled and over the course of several hours was given CT scans and X-Rays and lots and lots of meds. I left there with prescriptions for more meds and the knowledge that I had suffered a concussion and soft tissue damage. (My doctor would later refer to this as “thousands of microscopic tears in your muscles”.)

The long and the short of it was that I wasn’t going to be getting up for a few days and, when I did, it was a couple of weeks before I was moving at anything approaching normal. After a bit, Vicky and I went to get the police report because, dammit, I wanted to sue the bastards who had hit me. I’m not usually prone to lawsuits; I’ve only done it once in my life. But when I found out how obviously the passengers in the Mercedes had lied, saying it was my fault, all I could think was that I wanted to see them punished.

The other driver was not cited for anything. Apparently, cops can only cite if they witness the infraction – no matter how many witnesses support the claim. When did this start? Sounds pretty fucked up to me. So, basically, you can kill a guy and never get arrested if a cop doesn’t see it??? I’m calling bullshit! But that’s what the cops said to us. So, fine. But I wanted to take these bastards to court and get some satisfaction!

And this is where things got funnier… and no, no “ha ha”… I couldn’t find a single lawyer who would pursue taking the driver to court because he was a liar or for pain and suffering, which I had plenty of! No, the best I could find was a lawyer who would sue for medical expenses, a few thousand dollars. So, basically, these guys have lied and are going to get away with it. It really pisses me off!

Anyway, fortunately for me, I had no permanent injuries that I know about. I’m jogging again and, once enough time passes for me to be sure I… no, wait… for Vicky to be sure I’m over the concussion, I can cycle again. So, at least, there’s that.

I can promise you, though, that if I had gone through a red light or if I had lied – two things I do not do – I would have had my license taken away. I would have been put in jail. I would have had my sorry ass sued.

There really is no justice sometimes.

Stopping to breathe…

August’s entry for Recovering the Self is early and here it is.

I’ll be back for new updates in these parts next week now that I’ve taken a little time to stop and breathe. Hope you’re still breathing, too.

One day you're on top...

We're halfway through the month and I've been bumped off the front page for a senior in high school - ah, humility! But you can still read the interview I did over at Connotation Press and my play, Murielle's Big Date, on this page...

July Recovering the Self is up...

This month, I talk about an important factor for anyone chasing their dreams: having a support system!

On the job front and…

I was going to say “All’s Quiet on The Jobstern Front” but even I know that makes me sound Malthusian!
So, the big news is that I am now a copywriter for an ad agency. Shocked? Me too! After applying for just about every job under the sun, the one I get is the job I’ve wanted for years, to finally work at an ad agency!
So, there you have it. Things are good and let’s hope I stay employed for a long while…
Oh, and there’s something else. I recently hit a writing wall (as explored over on the Ken La Salle blog) and I won’t be writing much for a brief while. That means I’ll be taking a break from the blog for just a bit. Feel free to check back, though. I shall return. In the meantime, just play nicely amongst yourselves…

Murielle’s Big Date in Connotation Press…

For those of you who have never read one of my plays, Connotation Press is now giving you the opportunity. This month, Connotation Press is running my farce, Murielle’s Big Date, for you to enjoy.

They’ve also included at interview with me, wherein I discuss writing, theater, and many deep, philosophical things to be sure…

Hope you enjoy it!

Job Interviews: A Side By Side Comparison…

Last Friday, I ended my week with a phone interview with a woman from a placement agency I’ve worked with in the past. Though I hadn’t worked with the woman, I figured from my experience with the placement agency that it would go well.

Boy, was I wrong.

The call began with questions about my experience, which is typical, but when I told her what I’d done, she refused to believe me. I said I’d written for the web and she said, “That’s just writing things that went on the web that’s not writing FOR the web.” I said I’d written advertisements and she said, “You just wrote text that was used in advertisements. That’s not the same thing.”

Seriously.

I couldn’t get her to understand that they were both the same and, after a torturous half hour, she called me a liar and said she refused to work with me.

… nice. Welcome to the world of the unemployed.

Now, cut to yesterday. Someone at an ad agency had seen my profile on Linkedin and, through a circuitous and confusing path, contacted me through another placement agency I use. This agency needed a writer who understood tech and wanted to bring me on. When I spoke with the contact, he didn’t wait a minute and asked me to meet with him right away.

“I’m not exactly ready,” I tapped danced. “I just need time to shave and –”

“Don’t worry about shaving. I know it’s last minute. I just want to meet to get the ball rolling.”

So, I met him. I think he was trying to see how I handled change and stress because, when we met, he said, “It means a lot to me that you were able to meet with me on such short notice.”

Working for an ad agency is a big step for any marketing copywriter. It’s really where you want to be. But to do it, you often already need experience – one of those wonderful Catch 22s… But he was fine with my lack of agency experience because, he said, I had so much good experience and talent that could be put to use.

When I told him about my background, he didn’t call me a liar or just assume I was trying to trick him.

I don’t know if I’ll get the job but you put those two interviews side by side and you see two very different styles. I really hope I get this ad agency job; it could mean a big step for me. If not, I hope I never get another interview where the person I meet with assumes I’m a liar.

A Hex Upon Rynia (the e-book) is now available for all e-readers...

Hex may be one of the smartest men on earth, certainly one of its few real magicians, but that hasn’t stopped him from being alone. He can bring toys to life but his only real friend is a boy named Vincent. When Vincent sneaks into one of Hex’s magical experiments, they are both spirited away to the world of Rynia – of undead wars and stone giant usurpers, of terrifying sand creatures and a kingdom fighting for its life.


Hex is forced to take his magic to war while Vincent is rescued by a guerilla force of wizards and fighters, a talking walrus and a stick-man named Robert. Meanwhile, back on Earth, something of this magic has followed Hex and Vincent’s path back, ready to conquer a new world.

Witness a fantasy world unlike any other with topless helicopters and ice giants, violent battles and passionate love, a people on the edge of extinction with a story that must be experienced to be believed. Witness a Hex Upon Rynia!

A Hex Upon Rynia, the prequel to the entire Rynia Trilogy, is now available for all e-readers from Amazon.com, Smashwords, and wherever e-books are sold.

June's Recovering the Self...

This month's Recovering the Self blog has been posted, in which I tackle the painful reality of what pursuing your dreams really means.
I hope you enjoy it.

http://www.recoveringself.com/self-esteem/down-to-earth

Is 45 years too late to review a movie? My review of The Great Race…

When I was just a kid, my brother I used to sit down every weekend and watch The Family Film Festival with Tom Hatten on Channel 5. I think it was on Sunday mornings. On that show, about four or five times each year, they would play Popeye cartoons and old movies that the channel had secured the rights to very cheaply. You could tell they got the rights cheap because they’d play the same movies over and over. One of the movies they showed over and over, about four or five times each year, was The Great Race.

The Great Race is a Blake Edwards comedy from 1965, starring Jack Lemmon, Tony Curtis, Natalie Wood and so many others. It was one of those movies I saw so much that I could, and often did – to death, quote line by line.

I didn’t realize the profound affect it had on me until I watched it recently. I had dvr’ed the film off TCM (which I just LUV), having only seen it uncut once before many years ago. As I watched it, I realized that so many of the rapid-fire interchanges could have come out of something I wrote. Among the many influences I’ve had, this one is very clear.

And the movie still holds up today. So many things I loved as a child simply do not but The Great Race still had me laughing. Jack Lemmon’s energy is contagious. Tony Curtis’ meta-suavity is spot on. Natalie Wood is – well, this was when she looked amazing (when didn’t she?) – but her timing is wicked. Peter Falk is Peter Falk so you know he’s got it in spades. And there are so many others that just nail it.

The bad part? The music. As I’ve mentioned to others, this simply stops the show because it’s so god-awful. You end up in a pit stop, waiting for the music to end so you can get on with the enjoyment. I'm not talking about the soundtrack, which is wonderful; it's those damn showtunes. Stop it!

And much enjoyment is to be had. The thing about The Great Race is that it has so many moments of fucking brilliance that it can coast for a while and you don’t mind. Well, I didn’t. I just love this movie and feel so grateful knowing how it has inspired me.

Jogging with a stranger…

Once upon a time, I used to take the edge off in the morning with a few cigarettes. Now, I take the edge off in the morning with a few miles – jogging them! What has happened to me? When did I grow up? And, crap, I think I lost my EDGE!

Okay, actually I’m not that worried. I like the way jogging makes me feel and it goes well with cycling. It’s rather surprising I’m still such a fat-ass, but I’m working on that.

This morning, I jogged five miles along the Santa Ana River Trail. The SART is a great place to jog; I’ve come to consider it my outdoor gym because I cycle there, too. Now that the sun has started coming out and spring has sprung, I don’t have to bundle up or wait until the day gets warm enough to go out. The only problem with spring springing is that the bugs of spring have sprung as well – into the air! Everywhere!

Most of my jog this morning seemed to be through a cloud of flying bugs, so many that you don’t dare open your mouth even to exhale. Eventually, most of the bugs will die off or move on as the weather turns drier and hotter… but not yet.

So, I jogged as best I could, keeping my mouth shut through a huge cloud of bugs. Sounds like fun, huh?

As I entered the last portion of my jog, a very attractive woman jogged past – which I’ll tell you up front is not that hard to do. I’m old, fat, and slow. Dig? She immediately caught my eye because she was, as previously state, very attractive. And I do not mind jogging around attractive women, even if it does make me unnaturally obsessed with my gut.

When I jog, I tend to jog in intervals. This is how they’re determined: when a fast song comes on my iPod, I jog, and when a slower song comes on my iPod, I walk. Sometimes, I get lucky and the iPod’s random setting gives me nothing but slow songs, but normally it’s 50/50 as it was today. When this woman passed me, I was slowing down. Then, I sped up and passed her. Then, I slowed down and she passed. She was doing intervals, too, as it turned out.

After a while, I realized we were both going down the same street. This was the street I always took to get back home but I couldn’t help wondering what she thought. Did she think I was following her? Stalking her?

I tried to just go about my business and not stare too much, as difficult as that was.

Every time I slowed down, she passed. When she slowed down, I passed. We did this for a couple of miles.

Then, when we reached my corner, she continued straight and I turned. I caught her head turn out of the corner of my eye, almost like, “Where are you going?” Ah, but I’m sorry. That was where I lives met and split once again.

I might jog with her again. You never know. Then, perhaps, we will be just a little less like strangers.

I honestly did not see this coming…

I went to the optometrist this week for my yearly paranoia. Optometrists give me just the opposite feeling as dentists. When I see a dentist, I experience great pain to find out everything’s okay. At the optometrist’s office, I experience no pain and hear the worst news.

This time, after he checked my eyes out, he gave an irresolute shake of his head and said, “I’m not sure what we can do.”

Those aren’t words you want to hear from any doctor.

Turns out my eyes have started the downward slide I’d always feared and felt I had always been slightly putting off. The thing is my eyes suck. They always have. If you have an eye condition in mind, chances are I have it or have had it.

Oh, they’re healthy. He always tells me that, “Your eyes are healthy…” And then he adds, “But…”

It turns out my eyes are a bit schizophrenic. The vision in my right eye is diminishing as my left eye dominates. I’m going blind in my right eye. When the doctor tries to make me able to see through that eye, with glasses, the vision in my left eye actually gets worse. “It’s as if your left eye doesn’t want your right eye to see.”

Now, I’ve never had any Oedipal issues that I know about but I personally like seeing out of my right eye. It makes 3D so much more enjoyable.

Jokes aside, it kind of shook me, knowing that my best days of vision are long past.

The supreme joke here is what’s killing my vision the most is what I do. As my doctor put it, “If we could get you to not look at computer screens or read, your vision would probably improve.” Irony, you’re a bitch.

The Incarnations of Death - now available for all e-readers...

Death can never be defeated and when Robert Erwon Mitchel does just that he sets off a chain of events that give birth to a new breed of superheroes. Now it is up to these heroes - Night Stalker, Fade, and Force - to find a way to stop the insane replacement for Death, one who can wipe out entire cities at a whim and who is hunting down the scientist who killed his predecessor!

Find out what happens in The Incarnations of Death! Now available for all e-readers through:
Amazon for your Kindle
Smashwords for all e-readers
and wherever fine e-books are sold!