This is me

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Completed Manuscript

This is just for Testing, Blog under Maintenance!

Out and about

This is just for Testing, Blog under Maintenance!

What it do

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A Little Tired

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Friday, September 19, 2014

Update Bombshell!

I am aware that it has been quite awhile since I posted anything in this particular page, but that is all changing! As of late, I've finally gotten back in the mood to write again, and well the chair beckons!

Monday, August 11, 2014

Random Food for Thought

Good morning, L.A. and to some extents the world.

A few things I've learned in my travels through this crazy little thing called life. 1.) A morning of awkwardness is far better than a night spent alone. 2.) I probably won't go down in history but I will go down on your sister. 3.) And while I am down there it would be nice to see a hint of pubis. I mean I am not talking about a huge 70's Playboy bush or anything just something to remind me I am performing cunnilingus on an adult. But I guess the larger question is, why is the city of angels so hell bent on destroying its female population?

Have a good day L.A.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Started a New Novel : 'A Long Cold Winter"

Start at the End and Work Backwards


It all started on a hot summer’s evening. I was alone as per usual, punishing my liver with reckless abandonment. Never before had I lost such control that I would allow for myself to drink such excess. Blotto had passed me by some hours ago and I was on my way to blackout station. But I had a saving grace that came in the form of a bartender that knew me well enough to have the balls to cut me off and call me a taxi that would be my chariot back to my humble abode, which in all honest humble is a very modest way of stating my residence was seedy and in dire need of tearing down.

I arrived home a short while thereafter, and after paying the cabbie, I had climbed out of the taxi, and right away I felt every last drop of alcohol I had consumed. It hit me sure as shit and the impact left me conscious long enough to process a singular thought. Damn this must have been how it felt to take a punch by Mike Tyson and then wham everything fades to black and the last curtain is drawn. As if my heart had ceased to pump and provide my brain the steady amount of oxygen required to function on a level that most educated and smart psychologists would label as semi functionality. Still I had drunk long and hard for days and was little worse for wear, only difference being that I was younger and then you get older and your body’s not as resilient as it used to be.

I reached the front door and dug deep into my pants pocket for my keys and after a moment or two I found them. Pulling them out I realized I hadn’t a proper grip on them and they fell to the ground with a slight clank of metal against stone and I thought fuck I don’t want to pick them up. For the very action of bending over would cause an enormous wave of pain to wash over and me. So, I remained standing in front of my house trying to find an ounce of clarity. I am not going to lie. It took some effort to trick myself into bending over and standing back upright before my mind had time to stop me. My stomach began to churn and a tendril of residual heat coursed through my stomach’s lining on its way to my chest and ultimately my heart.

Once inside I encountered another obstacle. I had to make it to the couch and on any other night it would have proved quite easy. This night was different. Tonight, I was still in mourning over the loss of my daughter. Not to mention the baby mama who had carried her for several months had made her egress from my life. Still, I bear no ill will against her. She had experienced so many heavy emotions in such a short expanse of time and needed some space to clear the air. So, she had taken a flight back to visit her folks. Never had I conceived that they disliked me. They never expressed any animosity towards me but it goes to show you never really know people. I still lover her with my entire heart and soul only thing is we are done. Hence, the steady progression into depression, one minute you are on top of the world and the next you are drowning at the bottle of a bottle.
Then there came a ringing from the living room and at first I had dismissed it as nothing. Nothing more than a simple noise that with all of my luck was in my head. I waited for it to cease and when it didn’t I worked hard to steady myself for one more marathon. Each step required a tremendous amount of effort on my part, making sure my feet didn’t trip on anything that may be lying on the floor and avoiding furniture that may cross my path and more than likely trigger a fit of rage that would only serve to further injure myself. Getting pissed off was easy to do for me sober let alone highly intoxicated. Within minutes the couch was within reach and so was the house phone.
Picking up the receiver from the cradle I put the phone to my ear and spoke, “This had better be important.”

“Hey, man, where have you been?”

“Bro, you just don’t seem to get it do you?”

There was a long pause and I could tell that my friend was annoyed. So, I took a deep breath and held it in for as long as I could before exhaling. He started to speak but I stayed his voice as I cleared my throat. Surely, this further antagonized him but it didn’t matter.

“Yeah, man. Just so much shit is happening and I am hammered and not in the mood for further drama let alone noise that would worsen my current state of being,” I said hastily while the thought lingered in my conscious mind.

“I understand that and that was the very reason why I called you up. Just checking in on your bro,” he said the tone in his voice began to lighten up.

“For sure, brother, and it’s appreciated. Really it is,” was my response.

“All right, you take care of yourself. Later,” he declared.
Then he hung up and I returned the phone to the cradle and fell onto the couch. Almost instantly I fell asleep and all concerns vanished like early morning cloud cover that was burned off by the midday sun. Only they didn’t go away in their entirety. A tiny remnant of what had driven me to depression and subsequent liver abuse. The brief albeit comforting conversation I had had less than a minute ago lingered in my mind as if it was a billboard designed and built just for me. Perhaps one would label this line of thinking as self-serving but then again who would care? What happens in your own dreams is about you or by extension those affected by your words and actions.
Shortly thereafter, the remainder of my consciousness thoughts meandered off and became abstract until I no longer existed. Forever at sea, forever lost, but never without hope of a better tomorrow, these were words of wisdom I had gleaned from a poem I had read once. Strange how often you tend to think about things that are so far afield and yet befitting all in the same. Semi-conscious and aware one moment and the next I fell into a deep sleep.

Morning came and went and I was still fast asleep. Then there came a loud series of knocks at my door and the persistence of this noise roused me from my slumber and sleepy eyed and groggy I walked over to the door. My gait was steadier than the night before but my head felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. It throbbed and each time the pain only worsened. My eyes opened and closed afraid of taking into much sunlight. I wasn’t ready to wake up and head out into the real world-a place where I clearly didn’t belong with my being a semi functional man child that always had whiskey on his breath. Such a place that didn’t cater to the weak and only the strong survived through exploiting those that they deem less important and beneath them but I digress.

For a brief moment there I thought the person who only moments ago had been knocking on my door incessantly had given up and left. But no, the time between the last knock and when I had managed to pull myself up out of the couch had lasted less than I had first thought. So, I covered the remaining distance to the door and opening it a familiar face greeted me and the owner of this face let herself in. I had a snarky comment lingering on the tip of my tongue but I refrained. Mostly out of a strange curiosity that demanded to find out what brought her all the way here to meet me. What could be so important that she would drive five hours out of her way? Closing the door, I walked back to the living room and saw her sit down on the couch.

“My apologies for the mess, but I wasn’t expecting anyone would be stopping by,” I declared my voice softer than the words that I uttered.

She sat back on the couch resting her back against the cushion. I stole a moment to admire her. She was a very beautiful woman and it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t attracted to her but then another thought pushed that away and it chastised me for lusting after the sister of my now ex-wife. In response to this sudden guilt trip I made for the kitchen. Not that I was really thirsty but it was a social norm that you offer guests at your home a beverage. Good thing I did know her tastes and what not for it made things all the easier. I took out a couple bottles of orange juice and returned to the living room. I proffered her one and she thanked me taking the drink without hesitation.
“I am sorry for intruding on you like this but I wanted to tell you something,” she started her eyes cast down unable to look up from the carpet.

In that moment I knew her sudden appearance held an ulterior motive and why not. Still I had a feeling what she was going to tell me would placate the side of my personality that was capable of empathy. And to be honest I was a very caring and empathetic person that gave a damn when no one else did. Such was my blessing and curse. The fairer sex, which was women, never required more than a good listener, comfort and a sense of stability. If anyone told you differently, then they were lying or just didn’t know diddly squat about the opposite sex. She knew this much about me and we hardly ever had time to get to know one another as well as in-laws might otherwise do. Still I figured the many times I had gone over to their family’s home and my brash albeit honest nature to speak my mind had not been lost upon deaf ears.

“No harm done, Sunny. What’s up?” I asked still curious as to what her visit entailed.

“Right, I guess I should just come out and say it,” Sunny said flatly as she mechanically reached up to push her long black hair back out of her face.

Again I found myself unable to look away when more of her face was made available for my viewing pleasure. I am not saying she did this for my benefit but more that I was transfixed by her sheer beauty. She lifted her gaze to meet mine and whether or not she realized what I was thinking was left unknown. She didn’t bring it up. Her reaction to my staring was a wry smile that calmed me on the outside but within had triggered a series of feelings to form in my hollow heart. The next thought to pass through my mind was to find out what she wanted to tell me and get her out of here.
“So, yeah, I just wanted to inform you that Wendy bears no ill will to you and wanted to say she’s sorry on behalf of our parents’ actions,” she stated her voice breaking and a hint of sadness was exposed.

“That’s it?” I questioned.

“Yep, that is it,” she answered.

I found myself amused and delighted by her curt and abrasive nature. Some would be offended by someone who had the balls to speak their mind without regret. I was not one such person. Such a noble and honest trait that was fading out of use in today’s society. Too many societal norms were springing into existence that made you almost too afraid to communicate let alone have the nerve to be honest with your feelings. Thus, when I come across people such as Sunny it reminds me there is still hope for the world we live in.


She finished the rest of her orange juice and as she set it down on the coffee table I knew she was making to leave. I stopped her in hopes of furthering the conversation. Instead I said nothing. Moments later she was gone and I was left alone with my thoughts to keep me company. The delight that had kept into my being still resided in my loins but it served only to annoy me.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Just a little something I wrote

I was feeling bored and saw a picture a friend of mine shared (on Facebook) and it had a waterfall cascading down into a river somewhere out of sight. And I came up with this.

And so I was busy out in the wilderness (forget the paved path with railing :P) and then I happened upon a waterfall that spilled out into a river farther down stream and not a moment too soon for I was sweaty and parched with my mouth dry from the constant movement. Now, though the guard from the castle draw nigh I decided to take a respite from moving and jumped into the crisp cool water whose tide threatened to carry me away at each turn. Yet I quenched my thirst and cleaned myself of sweat and once done I trekked on with my pursuers in ear shot of my position.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Just another Update Bombshell! Editor found (grammar and content editor)

I have a friend who is also my roommate as my live-in Editor for my manuscript for 'God Loathes You'. So, let's hope he likes it and there isn't too much to edit and polish. 

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Just an Update Bombshell!!!

Yes!!!! I finished my novella, 'God Loathes You', today!!! I am equally stoked and am pumped for the next step in this process. The editing comes next and then getting an agent to hopefully get published before too long!

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Ask Mike: Writing Questions.

Here you can post questions in regards to writing in general and I can give you feedback and notes on your writing projects, etc. I will try my best to answer as many question as I can and to the best of my ability. So, feel free to ask away!

Friday, June 20, 2014

Excerpt from Chapter 18, 'Second Chance at Love', from my WIP Novella, 'God Loathes You'

My cell started to ring again and I knew right away who was calling. Jenny was the only one expecting me at that time and I knew she’d call to make sure I was still on my way. Sure enough, when I hit the call button which also worked as accept button and I put it to my ear.

“Yes, my dear?” I asked without hesitation.
“Are you still on the way?” she responded with a question of her own.
“Yes, in fact I am on the boulevard and just passed Highland, ETA twenty minutes or so,” I announced elated.
“Awesome, come on home to mama,” she said softly and welcoming.
“Say that again,” I pleaded.
“Come home,” she uttered.
“I’m en route!” I shouted.

Half hour later, I pull into the driveway of my destination and I approached the tiny black metal gate barring my forward progression. Glancing down at the locking mechanism I realized that all one had to do was lift up the latch and push the door inwards. So, I did and it opened. Closing it behind me, I marched across the short span of ground that let out unto the steps and the front porch. The grass was well manicured and had such a shine that gave it that picture perfect look and fronting either side of the porch was a pair of gardens. Different assortments of flowers and plants littered the gardens and I had to pull my jacket across my face covering my nose. Damn allergies could ruin anything. I composed myself and breathed in and exhaled. Feeling confident once again my feet carried me to the steps and up them until I reached the front door. Automatically, I reached up and knocked a few times.


She opened the door and when she realized it was me her demeanor went from calm and collected to happy and crazed. She lunged into my arms and I squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. She kissed me back and gave me a firm hug and pulled me indoors. I managed to close the door behind us while she continued to drag me further inside. I didn’t bother resisting and to be honest my little head was now in control. As such, all level-headedness was out the door. It appeared to be the bedroom we were headed to. 

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Excerpt from Chapter 16, 'The Rainbow Room' from my WIP Novella, 'God Loathes You'

The Rainbow Room  

The morning after our little misadventure, we awoke and shared a cig. She had to leave shortly thereafter, on account of having to get home and shower and change into her work clothes. I pulled her into bed once more, and though she resisted a little, I won and kissed her. She returned my kiss and waved at me flirtatiously. No sooner had she departed I got a call from my agent, saying that he wanted to meet up and discuss yesterday. I agreed to meet him amidst protest. He said for me to come into Hollywood and meet him at the Los Burritos.

So, I called a taxi and took it into Hollywood, and directed the driver to my destination right there on the infamous boulevard. I paid the driver and climbed out only to be greeted by Chris. He was wearing his usual gray jacket with white button down shirt and matching gray slacks. He walked over to me and shook my hands. This man was most peculiar but I let the matter slide because without him I’d not be where I was. Even so I knew that he’d probably still be a little more than ticked off at me for bailing on him when he was already pissed off beforehand what with being cut out of the loop.

“Damn those taxis sure take their time getting anywhere,” Chris declared feeling a tad bit anxious to get down to the matter he had summoned me to discuss.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to about this very situation. I appreciate the posh lodging but not having my own personal mode of transportation is most unbecoming,” I retorted with a hint of frustration that lashed like whips laced with venom.

He didn’t say a word and only gestured for me to go on inside. So, I did and he followed after me. We walked over to his booth. The place was fairly small but clean and the air was warm in one corner where the cooks prepared the meals and cooler over on the right side where the patrons sat. On all four walls of the venue were pictures of the founders and how Hollywood looked back when. Just a bunch of historical pictures of what was before and what existed now.

After taking a seat, I pulled out my pack of smokes and removed one, placing it to my lips; I returned the pack to my pants pocket. “I heard this place makes some of the best Mexican food you could want,” I commented recalling what I had heard in the Writer’s Room about this place. I lit up.

“Yeah, this place makes some killer burritos, and their enchiladas aren’t too shabby either,” Chris concurred.
An older lady wearing a red apron and black shirt and black jeans topped off by a hair net approached the table. She took out a worn notepad from the large pouch that lined the front of the apron.

“What can I get you guys?” she asked waiting patiently.

“Okay, I’ll have some of the house enchiladas and a bottle of Stella,” Chris spoke first and ordered.

I took another drag from my cig and put it out in the ashtray resting against the wall. “I’d like to try some of your nachos and maybe a couple of tacos, and to drink, I’d like some Corona,” I said winking at her, and she actually broke into a smile, sadly, it was short-lived. As she turned around she resumed her expressionless facial.

“Alright, my reason for us getting together here was to clear the air,” Chris started. “But you know what, I am not even going to go there,” he amended noticing my facial expression.

“Nah, it’s totally cool if you’re still pissed at me, I’d be pissed at you if you did something similar, but we got bigger fish to fry,” I retorted half disappointed in his willingness to discard what had happened and half glad to clear the air as he had said.

He nodded in agreement and took a couple sips from his Stella and me from my Corona.

Within minutes after our exchange of words the food was brought to our table and it smelled simply delicious and caused me to feel hunger although I hadn’t felt hungry upon arrival. The smell of the food and the look of it changed my mind. I dug in and stopped only to drink some of my brew and back to eating. “This food is the bomb, Chris. Respect,” I said still chewing a bit of my last taco.

I stole a glance about the limited seating in this venue and noticed most of the patrons were dressed similar to the style of dress that my agent, Chris sported, although more expensive and chic looking but still. This made me feel out of place but then again that was my thing. Not fitting in, and never giving a damn such was my mindset.

“I told you,” he retorted. “But yeah, have you been out on the Sunset Strip yet?” he ended his dialogue with a question.

“I know something of this which you call the Sunset Strip but have I actually traverse down said locale?” I didn’t have a clue about this but had to appear as if I was aware of its existence.

“No, I’ve not had the luxury of enjoying the Sunset Strip and its many bars, and clubs,” I came clean and admitted to not having been there.

Sure I have driven down Sunset Boulevard as far as La Brea but I never went beyond just until the border of Hollywood and West Hollywood, and along that short stretch were tons of night clubs and bars and eateries. Or so Chris filled me in. I listened intently.     So we passed the reminder of the afternoon getting high and talking about random shit until the sun started to set. Then we climbed in his beamer and rode in style until Hollywood. He had put the top down and right in that moment I was thinking this was the American dream. Hell, it was the California life that everyone here had taken advantage of. Now, it was my turn to indulge and partake of.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Just an update for you guys who follow my blog!

I just finished writing for today, and should have this chapter concluded by the end of the week. So, there's that and then I can start on a new chapter on Monday of next week. I should be done with this thing by the end of the month or the first week of the coming month. Then, it'll be all about getting someone to proofread and edit for me. Then I can put on the finishing touches (the polish) and look for an agent!

Monday, June 2, 2014

Chapter Excerpt from 'God Loathes You', Chapter 15 And Then There was Scarlett

The day of her departure was upon us and she was still asleep. I climbed into her bed next to her and kissed her lips. She stirred and mumbled something inaudible and I kissed her once more. She stirred again but this time her eyes popped open and she smiled upon seeing me. I started to kiss her again but instead I tickled her belly. She pushed me off her and sat up on the bed. Remembering that she was late, I directed her pretty little face toward the clock. She seemed to wake up in that moment as she sprang up from the bed. I barely moved out of the way in time before getting knocked over.

“You could have waked me up sooner,” she scolded.

“Well, I only just woke up, myself,” I retorted.

She scoffed and ushered me out of the room with a handful of shirts, panties, and a fresh bra. I didn’t struggle against her exiling me. I figured that she didn’t want any funny business keeping her from making the airport in time. So, knowing that she’d take a minute, I found a hidden stash of pot and made a joint. It took a couple of tries to roll it up but I managed. I lit up and took a long toke from the joint as she emerged from her bedroom. She glanced down upon the couch at me and the joint. I could tell from the glint in her eyes that she wanted more than anything to snatch that joint from my hand and take a drag.
“You had to blaze while I was getting dressed,” she said flatly, obviously, frustrated. “Let’s just get to the airport,” she added trying to stay calm.

“Alrighty then, but first I need to get you something,” I responded getting to my feet.

I disappeared into the kitchen beyond and rummage through the fridge and spot a bottle of shocktop. Picking said bottle of booze, I glanced at its label and noticed that it was a fruity flavor. I pursed my lips and nod thinking this was just what she could use. It wasn’t potent or high in alcohol content but it’d be enough to comfort her. You didn’t want to give her too much anyway else she’d be someplace beyond blotto. That meant she would be throwing up everything she had consumed for the past few hours.

“Here, drink this,” I declared handing her the bottle of beer, which she took without complaint.

“Shocktop, this won’t do much,” she declared laughing now.

“Just drink it, and hurry up,” I countered.

“Fine, dad,” she giggled.

She drank the bottle of booze and tossed it out. I could notice a slight change in her. She appeared more relaxed and to think all it took was one. Together we exited the house and I called a taxi. I removed a pack of smokes that had been crammed in good at the bottom of my pocket. I fished out a couple of stogies but they were brittle and crushed instantly. Finally, I produced one and we shared it while waiting for the taxi’s arrival.
The taxi finally arrived and as much as I wanted to go with her. I got her in the car and watched as it droned down the street. She glanced out the back window and I waved goodbye to her. In that fleeting moment I knew I wasn’t going to see her anymore. Not that that was my plan, for if truth be told I had developed feelings for her in the short span of time we had lived together out here on the west coast. But I had my work to think about and if I had any chances at rekindling my nonexistent love affair with my estranged better half then I had to let her go. As the taxi disappeared over the next hill I blew her a kiss and I know she blew me one back. Perhaps, I thought, she knew this was farewell.

Then my cell phone buzzed and I knew right away it was the fat cats in their tidy suits sucking on their big black cigars expelling clouds of smoke. I dug it out of my pocket and took it out and answered. Sure enough, it was a fat cat in a tidy suit, and he wanted me to meet him at some fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills. I agreed and hung up.

I called me a taxi and headed to work. Back to listening to others who thought they knew better. What the fuck ever, I thought, as long as they paid me. I would listen to them read from the phone book. It was work and more importantly, it was my work to do and when I werks I werks hard. I was hoping, in all honesty, that this gig would lead to something more than what I had at the moment. Don’t get me wrong any work, especially work relating to what I dreamed of doing, was fine but I needed to branch out and discover new things. Little did I know it but fate was planning just that for me.

So I arrived at the eatery and right away I was taken aback by the sheer chic nature of the venue. It was very clean and everything seemed as if the owners went to extraordinary lengths to ensure that its patrons were fed well but not only their bellies but their eyes as well. Of course, this flamboyance was lost on me. I was more of the simpler taste kind of man who enjoyed a good bite to eat followed up by some exquisite vintage liquor with a nightcap that usually ensured I was getting laid. It’s the simple things in life that one often overlooks on his or her rise to power. Maybe I am overthinking this a tad much but I digress.

“Hey, James, you made it,” the fat cat in his tidy suit said as he pulled out a chair and waited for me to sit down.
“Yeah, Maxwell, I am here, but you shouldn’t have,” I responded with snarky sarcasm and I gestured towards the eatery in which we sat.

“That’s Max, but whatever, and I couldn’t help myself. This is my favorite eatery and it has a wonderful bar,” he retorted ignoring my rude behavior.

“Oh, they do, do they?” I said more of a statement than a question. Suddenly, I felt my mood swift from mildly amused yet annoyed to curious and my palate craving some of that expensive food and booze.

“Yes, some of the most vintage wine aged to perfection, not to mention some of the best choices of scotch and whiskey,” he continued his boasting with an almost childish glee.

“Sounds good, but what did you want of me?” I responded and changed the direction of conversation back to the matter at hand.

He paused a moment and called over a waitress, a young beautiful creature with long, wavy auburn colored hair and perky breasts and an hour glass figure. He whispered something in her ear that I didn’t catch and she nodded. And as she turned to rush off and fulfill his request, I caught a glimpse of her face and she had dark brown skin as dark and delicious as caramel and as delicate as a china doll. She was beautiful and her exotic look caught me off guard and I was lost in her gaze long after she departed.
Max noticed my enamored facial expression and swooped in fill me in on her details. Seeing as he was much older than me and not in particular, an attractive sort, not that I judge men that way, he took great pleasure in gloating.

“So, I’ve noticed you caught sight of Scarlett, she’s quite beauty, isn’t she?” he teased.

“She’s beautiful, yes, that’s one of her qualities. I am sure,” I answered playing into his little game of wills.

“Anyway, let’s not get sidetracked. The reason for us meeting here today was to discuss the adaptation of your novella to a feature film,” he said, becoming more serious in tone.

“So, it is becoming a movie then?” I asked both surprised and confused.

“Yes and the main reason why we keep coming to you, for certain gigs, that wouldn’t be within the realm of possibility for new writers, was because you got raw talent and as such the higher ups feel you’d be perfect to pen the script for the movie based on the novella they loved,” he said, going off what I had asked.

“Wow, don’t hold back anything,” I joked.

The exotic beauty named Scarlett returned with a tray of glasses with a light brown liquid softened by a few cubes of ice added to lighten the rush of alcohol. In other words, you drank whiskey on the rocks, so you could get through a meeting relaxed but conscious. Still I must admit it was rather flattering to have the fat cats in their tidy little suits and thick cigars come to me directly. Although it was a tad bit unorthodox. I mean usually they’d talk to me via my agent. But as my new buddy, Max, had said I had a raw talent and this talent merited forgoing the middle man and going straight to the source of which was me, the talent.

“I mean, this is pretty nice and the treatment is flattering but shouldn’t you go through my agent?” I had to curve my amusement and be the voice of reason.

This statement seemed to leave him perplexed. He was of the opinion that I would be eating out of his hands like a pigeon being given seeds or pieces of bread. Clearly, he had no idea how simple of a man I was. Granted, I was new to the game but I just figured an agent did all of the groundwork for you and discus this and that with the fat cats and then once was all said and done he’d relay the info over to me. But hell, what did I know?
“Are you saying that you’re not interested in penning the script?” he asked again with that same dumfounded expression written on his face.

I stole a moment to contemplate his next move before making my own. I guess you could say I wanted to make sure this offer was genuine and legit. He offered me the proverbial holy grail of writers, and that was writing a movie, let alone one that was based upon said writer’s own work.

“You know what, I will be more than happy to pen the script. Giving into his childish glee and euphoria, I took the cup of whiskey and drained the rest of the whiskey therein.

His puzzled look faded and a look of sheer glee and satisfaction crossed his lips in the form of a smug smile.

“Excellent, just excellent,” he declared, slapping his hands together.

The candy coated goodness in the form of a waitress named Scarlett returned bearing refills for our glasses and before she departed once again leaving me to admire her wondrous form. She left me a note. Much to my satisfaction, Max didn’t see her leave me the note. I wasn’t sure if they had had a thing before or not. But it was best not to test the waters had he seen the passing of the note.

I opened up the note that was folded up and hand written, top this all off with an imprint of lipstick. The note read:

Hey, handsome, I’ve not seen you here before. And I know who you are, thanks to your vivid and detailed novella. Anyway, give me a call whenever you’re free.
Anything for a pretty face,
Scarlett

The note ended but was followed by her phone number. I quickly folded up this piece of paper and tucked it in my pants pocket.
Max, the fat cat in the suit, turned back around and still smiling. The less he knows the better, I thought. For it was evident how he reacted to my initial glance at her yummy goodness that I should play it safe. Still if she chose me over him it was her choice. After all it was her body and she could choose who to screw or not. We were just lucky she was looking our way at all.

“Back to business, where was I?” he started.

“You were elated over my having made the decision you hoped I would,” I reminded him.

“Right, that was it. We should have further details on this matter in the months to come. But for now keep up the good work, and when the top brass have sorted it all out, we’ll let you know,” he declared still smiling. The man was hard pressed to let anything get him down; Kudos to him for that.

Glancing down at my watch, I thought quickly on how best to make an excuse for my egress. Then, I just decided to up and leave. If he asked why I was bailing, I’d give him some lame excuse. There wasn’t much they could do other than take away all they had given me. I couldn’t afford that being so far from home but I was ballsy back then.

“Look, I have to go but thanks for the drinks and the new writing gig in the works; I mean it is a lot to take in. So, I will just go for now and let it process,” I stated pretending to be flustered, and I stood up.

He rose with me and we shook hands. His smile remained intact; obviously, my sudden move for departure hadn’t deterred him at all. Good, I thought, that meant I was not going to find out later I had been fired. The money was good, and the work if you wanted to call it such was easy. Besides I was far from home so, if shit got fucked up out here, then, I would be up shit’s creek without a paddle.

“I look forward to working with you, Adler,” he stated honestly, his smile reduced to a cheesy grin.

I turned away from the table and darted towards the entrance, stopping for a minute to pull the folded note out of my pocket and take a glance at the number. I hesitated a moment before stealing a look over my shoulder at the table where he sat. He was far too busy ordering more drinks to care what I was up to.

Outside I took out my cell phone and dialed up the number only to get her voicemail. Usually, I cared not to speak to a stupid machine but in this case I thought what the hell. I left her a short message followed by my own cell number. Hanging up, I ran over to the curb and started flagging down a taxi. Most of the time in this part of the country, it was prudent to call ahead of time but Beverly Hills was the exception. They were like cockroaches when you turned the light on. The only difference was that they didn’t disperse with the coming of said light.
After a few long minutes of flailing my arms like a mad person, a taxi slowed down and idled less than a foot from me. I climbed in and gave him the directions to my place back in Venice. I considered getting my own mode of transportation to get me from point A to B and back again. These taxi rides were adding up quickly. Something else to discuss with my agent, I supposed.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. At least it was the devil’s mouthpiece. He was looking not too pleased to see me arrive home so early. I have to admit that he had just cause to be pissed off. After all the fat cats in the suits had just cut him out of the loop, and he couldn’t perform his function of which was filling me in on the higher ups’ decisions. So, I endured his whining.

I paid the taxi driver and he peeled out and I was left alone to deal with my distraught agent. Woe is me; I thought but soon disregarded the sentiment.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” I teased attempting humor to try and lighten the mood. It failed.
“Don’t even start with me, okay?” he snapped, waving his cell phone like fish flapping when pulled out of the water.
“What? What did I do?” I inquired trying to play it innocent.
“Oh, you didn’t do anything much other than go behind my back and have a meeting,” he declared loudly, almost yelling.
He slumped down to one knee and collapsed onto the porch, still half sitting.

“Hey, buddy, come here, I got something inside that will make this all go away,” I advised and helped him to his feet.

Together we waddled through the front door and once inside I guided him over to the couch. I figured the best thing was to get him drunk or high. And seeing how the latter was far easier and less messy than the former, I opted to get him stoned.
Once he was settled on the couch, I went into the hallway and took out some weed from a closet. Out of habit I took a whiff of the herb and it filled my nostrils with that sweet aroma of which Mary Jane was known for. I returned to the living room and sat down across from Chris. Taking out the weed, I set my mind on rolling a joint.

“Hang in there, buddy,” I said softly while finishing up the dooby.

I licked the paper and finished rolling the joint when Chris started to get to his feet only to lose his balance and he collapsed into a heap onto the couch
.
“I guess I had better stay seated,” he moaned.

“Good idea,” I retorted, extending my arm out with my hand balled up in a fist. “Take a couple tokes from this and you’ll be feeling better in no time,” I declared, handing him the joint.

He took the joint without comment and I handed him a lighter. He lit up and took a deep pull. Within moments his demeanor lightened and he seemed to relax a tad.

“Good call on the weed,” he said amidst a chuckle.

I leaned back in the recliner and let out an audible sigh. Then my cell phone began to ring.

“Is that me?” Chris asked alarmed by the abrupt noise and he checked his pocket for his cell. He found it and looked up from his phone, “It’s not mine,” he said flatly.

“Oh shit, it’s Scarlett,” I swore remembering that I had left her my phone number in a voicemail from earlier.

“Who’s Scarlett?” He asked again a little alarmed more so from the lack of knowledge of who this woman might be than anything else.

“Just some waitress that I met when I was meeting with Maxwell,” I said nonchalantly and he nodded in approval.

“Hello,” I said answering the phone.

“Hey, about time you answered,” she responded, sounding a little annoyed.
“Yeah, sorry about, just had to take care of a little situation here,” I countered.

“Nah, that’s cool. I was just wondering if you wanted to meet up and I don’t know do something tonight?” she said, offering me a way out of this situation at least for the moment.

“Give me a minute,” I pleaded and before she got a chance to respond I moved the phone away from my mouth and looked over at my disgruntled agent. “I got to go out for a little bit; will you be okay if I take off?” I asked with a hint of conflicting emotions in my eyes. Those were my desire to resolve this conflict between he and I and the other was my wanting out of here and enjoy myself for a bit.

“Sure thing, but don’t think this will change anything,” was his response.

I remained staring at him but he waved me off dismissing me. So I put the phone back to my mouth and spoke, “Sure I am game, meet me at the Starbucks on the boulevard in Hollywood,” I said mildly excited.

She agreed and I hung up and got the keys to Chris’ BMW and departed. 

I pulled out of the driveway and drove down to the boardwalk and followed it until I came to another street that led me the I-10, Santa Monica freeway, and on into Hollywood. The whole drive over many thoughts passed through my mind, chief amongst them was how pissed off Chris truly was, and the conflicting emotion of being angry at myself. The latter occurred because I had hoped not to go out of one assorted affair that was now concluded only to get involved with another. In the back of my mind I recalled the surreal dream I had had and a path that led to my future with Jenny. It began to recede into oblivion and I was cast forward to whatever alternate path down which I would walk without her.
As I exited the freeway and ventured down a couple of side streets the wind that blew in through the driver side’s window felt warmer against my face and in responses I lowered the soft top. In doing so, the warmer air picked up in strength and blew against my face and played with my hair. At that point I brushed aside any feelings of concern or misgivings and prepared myself for the night that I was damned sure to enjoy no matter what the repercussion it would have tomorrow. Such was my primary self-defense mechanism I had built up when my “armor” no longer suffice to keep me from losing it.

Twenty minutes later I turned onto Vine and followed it up to the boulevard and found some parking in a lot as directed by the Mexican fellow dressed in black slacks and bright red jacket and his light baton. I let him guide me into the parking area and I parked the car. AS I climbed out a man approached me dressed in a security outfit and a serious expression writ on his face. He handed me a ticket and told me to pay for parking upon my return. I nodded in understanding and he moved aside to let me carry on.
I took out my cell and opened up the call history and dialed the last number to have called me. It was her cell phone. She answered after two rings.

“Hey, I just parked a block away. See you shortly,” I said informing her of my location.

“Great, I’ll order me another drink and will be sure to get you one as well,” she responded sounding less annoyed.

I hung up once more and walked the block in silence and paused a moment to consider what I was about to do. I looked out across the street and saw the familiar dark green cloth that served as an awning and searched for her. Spotting her amongst a small gathering of people seated outside the place, I sighed and thought what the hell. Mind as well go and have fun seeing as I was already there, I reasoned.

She saw me crossing the street and flagged me over to her and I waved back. She looked absolutely gorgeous. She wore a little make up and wore a black leather jacket which matched mine closely. I shook my head, thinking that I had a knack for getting myself up shit’s creek without a paddle but it was the heat of the moment that counted. The heat of the moment brought me good times and fond memories but there were always consequences to think about. But that was for another time. Tomorrow will come and I’d have to worry about it then.

“Hey,” I said as we hugged and I kissed her on the cheek.

She giggled. Her demeanor softened and she kiss me “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” she teased.

“I thought so too but I’m here,” I said evenly trying to get pass the previous hurdle and make the most of the night.

“Yes, you are,” she answered letting the moment fade.
I let a slight smirk form on my lips and a sighed. Feeling a tad bit relieved, I gestured to the drinks and she nodded and handed me mine. I sat down with her at the table where she had been waiting for me to arrive.

“So, when is the last time you’ve been on a date?” She questioned trying to break the proverbial ice.

I quickly considered whether or not to tell her about my not so distant break up with Jenny. My feelings for jenny won out and I decided to tell her. Perhaps she would feel a tad bit of pity for my story of woe. Or so I thought. This wasn’t my usual tact but then again this situation with me and Jenny was atypical.

“Well, not too long ago I broke up with my now ex-girlfriend and I’ve been trying to decide what to do on that front,” I answered her honestly.

She started to respond but hesitated a bit instead. I figured she was about to speak on the matter or maybe she was a little hesitant divulging such personal matters to a complete stranger.

“I know the feeling, I just went through a break up a month ago, and now my son’s father and I are trying to remain civil for the sake of our child,” she responded.

Her response struck me odd that she’d tell me such a personal matter. But maybe she liked the fact that we shared something in common no matter how painful it was to say. This was my thought on the matter. Then again, who really knows what goes through a woman’s mind?

“But we’re still alive and we got to put the past behind us and move on,” I said raising my plastic glass of green tea Frappuccino.

She smiled and raised hers with mine, “Here, here,” she said sounding more relaxed.

Some of the patrons turned to see what all the fuss was about but soon lost interested. Screw them, I thought. Let’s us be. I almost said as much but then I shrugged it off and took out a cig. I offered her one and she accepted. I lit both of our cigs up and took a deep drag from mine. The nicotine rushed through me as though it was one of those volcano mock ups that kids made to win their science fair only difference being that I relished in this sensation. Smoking a cig always caused me to relax just enough to settle my mind. She seemed to relax as well and that was winning. In the milky lamp light coming from the street lamps and florescent lighting from within augmented her beauty and exotic features. This further attracted me to her and I caught her scoping me as well.

“You know, you look pretty cute, especially in this lighting. It just suites you to the T,” she announced becoming aware of my having seen her checking me out.

I laughed, “Well, I do like to fit in and move with the crowd as oppose to standing out. Hence, my present attire that I am wearing,” I said proudly, gesturing to my apparel.

“That much I’ve surmised all on my own, and you’re pretty witty as well,” she said in addition to her previous compliment.
I actually cracked a smile, not a pompous or mildly amused smirk, but a genuine smile. There is a difference.

“You know, you should smile more often. It gets me wet,” she declared boldly her coffee browns for eyes dilated and she bit her lip.

“You want to get out here and go someplace else?” I suggested recognizing her changed in behavior towards me.
“Yeah, let’s go get some drinks. The stiffer the better,” she agreed.

Together we rose as one and hoofed it up the boulevard until we reached Highland Avenue and flagged down a taxi and rode it until Venice Beach. There we disembarked and strolled along the boardwalk, hand in hand, and talked idly about a variety of unimportant subjects that were equally pointless but also meaningful. Only two people who were totally in tune with each other could pull such a feat. These moments in time are fleeting but memorable and as such should be enjoyed to the extreme.

“So, how far do you live from here?” she asked suddenly, twirling about and gesturing at the beach and the countless eateries in the distance.

“Not too far away from that there bar,” I answered her as I pointed to a small brick building that was less than twenty feet from the water.

It had a neat little terrace where patrons could sit out under the moonlight and sip on their beverages all the while enjoying the view of the ocean as the tides rushed in and surf splashed like the frothiness you’d get in a cup of hot chocolate or designer coffee. I watched as she examined the venue with an eye of scrutiny and then she smiled. I knew from her reaction she was sold on it.

“You want to go?” I pressed gently still pointing at the aforementioned venue.

She nodded in agreement and squeezed my hand within hers. I felt a wave of excitation not to mention calm wash over me. It could have been the wind but I’m pretty certain it was because of her touch.  All of this including her perfume gave off such a sweet and not all together overly fruity scent. It was the right degree of fruity mixed with an alluring aroma that captivated me.
So on we strolled up the boardwalk and as we drew closer the building’s d├ęcor became a lucid picture in our minds. There were specials posted on the windows and crown like roof that was brown tile. There was also an accouchement of the family type restaurant opening tonight and also a local rock band was going to perform live. This place no longer exists but in its time the place was rocking all hours of the night. During the day it was less crowded but still a handful of faithful patrons would show their homage and dedication by stopping in during the down time.

“Hey, I think I know this local band,” she said with a hint of confidence.

“Oh yeah? Cool, then we should enjoy ourselves,” I declared excited.

I held the door open for and after she filed in, I followed behind her. 

Monday, May 5, 2014

Excerpt from Chapter 13, The Writing Gig from 'God Loathes You'

He shook his head and his mop of brown hair flew back and he snapped his fingers and his posse followed him to the opposite side of the room. I waved at them as they sat down before the long wooden table. They pretended not to see me but I know I was pissing them off. Better pissed off than pissed on I always said. As I sat down and started to leaf through the notes I had made for the screenplay whose writer was going to have a meet and greet with me. Said writer and the big wig that had made the decision for us to meet walked into the room.

The writer was tall and lanky and had neatly combed black mop of hair that rested on his head like a cat perched on top of your sofa like it belonged there. His eyes were dull and lacked any real life in them. Still he was young and good looking and I’m sure he’d had his share of ladies to choose from. Right out the gate I liked the guy. I just hoped that after I gave him my notes he’d see me in the same light. After all, us writers had to stand together against the producers and their fat wallets and their many minions who did their bidding without questioning what it was they’d been ordered to do. Then again this was my first time giving notes to a fellow writer, and to be honest it made me feel a tad uncomfortable.

“You must be, James Adler,” he said extending his right hand.

I took his hand with my right and we shook hands. “Yes, I am be James Adler, and you must be the writer,” I concurred his assessment of who I am and asked for the same in return.

He smirked realizing that my question was in jest. 

“Right, that is me. My name is Mark Wiles, and I hear you got some notes for me?” he inquired.

“That I do,” I said in response casting my gaze on the fat cat in the suit.

“Splendid, you two seem to be getting along. That’s good. Now, Mark, I’ll leave you two to discuss James’ notes and you guys choose what works and what doesn’t. I have a meeting, if you’d excuse me,” the fat cat in his dry cleaner pressed suit said making his egress.

Neither Mark nor I said anything to him and instead we sat there in awkward silence. I rubbed my hands together and recalled having a dooby in my pack of smokes. I took out the pack of smokes and removed the joint. His eyes grew large and I could tell he wanted to partake. So, I nodded and he nodded back in understanding. When in doubt break out the joint was my way of breaking the ice. If Mary Jane couldn’t win someone over and make the awkwardness go away nothing could. And I knew the perfect place to smoke up.

 I led him to the back lot where they had just turned down a set for this TV show that bombed. As such almost no one walked through him making it the ideal place to get wasted. In place of the awkwardness we had felt earlier was anticipation of being stoned and seeing how the other would react. I know that pot made me more likable and that was a good thing but I had no idea how the young writer, Mark, would respond to the weed.

“So, here it goes,” I said as I lit the joint.

And right away that pungent yet splendiferous skunk smell. It filled my nostrils as I took my second puff and passed it over to him.  He took the joint and wasted little time putting it in his mouth. He took a couple of hits and held the smoke in his longs both times then expelled it.

I could tell from the sudden relaxation in his face that he was chilling out. I too felt that twang of awkwardness fade away and in its place a sudden wave of comfort and silliness washed over me.

“This is some good shit,” he said amidst laughter a few hits later. Then he started coughing.

“Yeah, this is the best shit, broheim,” I responded in agreement also coughing my head off.

We smoked the rest of the joint in silence save for long raggedy coughing spells and laughter. What was so funny that we laughed like a couple of schoolgirls was beyond me. Nevertheless, the ice was shattered and that meant that my notes would go over well.
“I guess we should get back to the writer’s room and go over those notes you got for me,” he declared allowing for a little seriousness to creep back into his voice.

By the time we made it back to the writer’s room it was empty. And I looked up at the clock on the far side of the wall and it was eleven o’clock and that meant they had gone to lunch. We must’ve been gone longer than we had thought. Ah well, we made use of the empty room and silence to go over my notes without botheration from the hacks and wannabes.

An hour later we had gone over just about all of the notes and he hadn’t said anything. Although from his facial expression I could tell he had some mixed feelings but he seemed to take my words in stride. I on the other hand was the nervous one and drowned my nervousness in tobacco and a sip from a small bottle of whiskey I had smuggled in. He took a couple of sips and this seemed to relax him.

“Okay, so, you like the dialogue but you’d like me to brush up on the descriptive narrative?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s right and before you go having a hissy fit and tell me it’s all about the dialogue. I know this but it is good to describe the setting however briefly with some detail,” I countered.

“Duly noted,” was his brief response.


“Good, then, want to partake of the weed once more?” I asked
 already knowing what his answer would be.