They Lived They Were

Announcement Pronouncement II: “The bilingual bites back!”


Ladies and Gentlemen,
The next novel is out for pre-sale.
K thanks bye.


O.o That’s it? O.o
No way!
My whole life I’ve hated commercials, and here I am engaged in commerce. Spreading the word. Raising awareness. Letting you know. Commercials. As a kid, it was annoying to have my cartoons interrupted by a sales pitch, especially of something that didn’t mean anything to me, nor ever would. And yet people create things, worthy or worthless, which must go on the market.
If not, completing a novel, only to leave it saved-as on your computer, is to birth a breathless creature.
So, let this book come to term.
And watch it come to life. Then care for it.
It needs you to whisper its words.


One third of the novel is the story of a DJ who losses his GF because of a drug habit, so he tries to release an EP to win her back; meanwhile he falls in love with a woman twice his age, who grooms him to become a better person; the finale becomes a test, answering the question: Does he mature by the end?
Another third of the novel are journal entries, daily insights into the heart and mind of this young, troubled man, haunted by demons and confronted with career obstacles, while also realizing his potential as a full-time producer.
The final third of the novel is comprised of a series of dreams and nightmares, flashbacks, flashforwards, some deliriously high or ludicrously lows pondering about the music industry, a deep-seeded confusion about his mixed heritage, and a whopping 105 footnotes by a mysterious meta-reader, who comments on lines and passages, as she reads the DJ’s story.


Originally, the book was intended as a wake up call for artists squandering their full talent. People who spend more time thinking about art, than creating it. Folks who would rather complain than do. They will find their plight echoed in that of the protagonist. Really, though, it was about creating a cathartic experience for that inner child in all of us, with paint on his fingers and cards in his pocket.
But later, sharing this book with my brother, he made the case for a different audience. This book would actually be better read, and better understood by the young woman, early twenties, who spends $1000 on festival tickets every year, probably stalks DJs, and loves a good story about a bad romance.
Of course, being this story’s father, I would say the book could appeal to anyone who was willing to untangle the narrative, and read between the lines, to discover the happy ending.


It comes out on June 16th (Bloom’s day, for you Joyce fans) because it’s the middle of summer, and the perfect time to read a hot, sweaty novel.


Available on NH2GDZ580B\pd\moc.nozama.www\\:sptth (I thought it would be cute to write the hyperlink backwards, but don’t worry, it still works just fine, if you click it). So click it, or ticket 🙂


I want to thank, as kindly and as warmly as I possible can through text on a screen, those of you who continue to read this blog.
Like all of us, sometimes I get the feeling no one is listening, no one is reading. Alas, any attachment theorist would say I find self-worth in comments and likes, things that are abundantly lacking on this website.
And yet, it’s the random email from a stranger who googled their name and read themselves in one of my posts; or the family member who comments; or the friend who months later will tell me she loved that one post long ago; that all keep me going.
So thank you, for real, thank you. Like Morodor once said,”The dream was so big.” Yet it feels possible with you.

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