A Writer's Life

We Are Family

There's a great article about my brother Tod, author of the new book OTHER RESORT CITIES, in today's edition of THE DESERT SUN. Here's an excerpt:

Tod Goldberg had the odds stacked against him.

In addition to his dyslexia, he's also color blind.

That was problematic, because the workbooks that were supposed to teach him to read were color-coded.

“I was all messed up,” Goldberg says. “There's no reason I should be writing today.”

What the doctors and teachers didn't know was the power of the Goldberg clan. They rallied around him — “They actually formed a secret cabal without my knowledge to get me to read,” he says. “They didn't want me to be the butt of jokes forever.”

He's still the butt of jokes, but not for that reason.

Booklist Loves Tod

My brother Tod's new collection of short stories, OTHER RESORT CITIES, got a rave review from Booklist:

Menace and mayhem brew beneath the finely crafted surface of these magnetic short stories of American mania and despair. Goldberg draws on his crime-fiction chops (Living Dead Girl, 2002) to portray refugees from failed attempts at middle-class normalcy seeking freedom and revenge in the overdeveloped deserts of the American West. Goldberg’s disgruntled characters get up to no good in Palm Springs, Las Vegas, and various gated communities just begging for defilement. A lonely, no-longer-young cocktail waitress struggles to understand her missing Russian adopted daughter. A former sheriff and cancer survivor returns to the strange, toxic, devouring Salton Sea, where he lost his first wife. A man converts his fancy home into a Starbucks after the disappearance of his second wife, and one wonders just how insane he truly is. Goldberg pulls out all the stops in “Mitzvah,” a tale about an ersatz rabbi and a temple-centered money- and body-laundering scheme. A divorced father kidnaps his kids; a family is found slain on a mountain. These are eerie, obliquely compassionate, darkly humorous, and ensnaring stories of misery and catharsis. — Donna Seaman

The Windy City Loves Tod

My brother Tod is in Chicago doing readings and signings for OTHER RESORT CITIES, his new short story collection, and got the star treatment from Chicago TimeOut: 

There’s something about a resort vacation that makes you appreciate home. For the characters living in the getaway destinations of Tod Goldberg’s latest collection, Other Resort Cities, leaving home is a desperate imperative. A Chicago hit man hides in Las Vegas, where 15 years later he’s a respected rabbi of a money-laundering temple. Trouble is, he wants out of all of it—the mafia, faux Judaism and especially Vegas. “Mitzvah” indeed. A cuckolded father abducts his children and ends up squatting in model homes, and another deserted husband converts his gated-community home into a Starbucks. Bad decisions come as naturally to Goldberg’s characters as his incisive wit is a natural part of his storytelling.

Tod Answers Burning Questions

My brother Tod talks at BiblioBuffet about writing the BURN NOTICE books, the latest of which, "End Game," just came out:

It was hard at first. I re-watched all of the first season (this all came about in November of 2007, so the first season had just concluded), read all of the scripts, talked to Matt about how he created the characters, their motivations, fears, etc. because I really wasn’t comfortable stepping into an established character. [...] I essentially decided once I started writing that I’d treat the books like a band doing a cover song. I wasn’t going to get it exactly right and I really couldn’t hope to. It wasn’t going to be the same as the show, because, uh, it’s a book. You want a different thing from a book than a television show. But it would be pretty close and I’d put my own spin on it.

Tod's Burning Sensation Explained

My brother Tod talks today about the challenges he faced writing his latest BURN NOTICE novel:

Writing these books is certainly a different kind of experience for me -- I write them very, very quickly. More quickly than I'd like, really, but the turn-around time on them is such that I really only have about three months to write each one and have a normal life in-between. And by normal life, I of course mean a normal writing life...

But even after he turned in the book, he wasn't actually done writing it...

I wasn't happy and added a new chapter from Fiona's pov when the copyedits came in, which probably didn't thrill my publisher, but it felt like something was missing. I've been tinkering a lot with adding different povs into the books -- Sam's, Fiona's, and in this new book I'm writing, you get the client's pov for a chapter, too -- because that's the one thing I'm really able to do that you can't get on the show. Plus, it's fun for me as a writer.

And it's gonna be fun for you as a reader, too, because his BURN NOTICE books are great. And I'm not just saying that because we share a few genes.

Book Fest, the sequel

It was another fine day at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. I chatted with lots of authors and readers....and did a signing with my brother Tod, William Rabkin, Patricia Smiley and Denise Hamilton. BURN NOTICE creator Matt Nix also stopped by and signed some books wih Tod. I showed my MWA spirit, and my rippling muscles, by wearing the new SoCal MWA t-shirts that were hot-sellers at our booth. 

I was in so much back pain yesterday that I neglected to do a proper run-down of events here when I got home (all I wanted to do was lie down). So I didn't mention that Tod and I ran into Joseph Wambaugh, who gave my brother a big hug and me a signed galley of his upcoming novel HOLLYWOOD MOON. I think Tod was envious. Friends get hugs, fans get cool galleys.  

Tod moderated a very funny panel on humor and race with Christian Lander, Lalo Alcaraz and Larry Wilmore and only made a half-dozen references to mastubation and didn't mention his bowels even once. 

Some other observations...

The green room served the same food that they have in years past, which made me wonder if we were actually eating left-overs to save money.  

Barnes & Noble, Borders, Book'em and some other bookstores were noticeably absent this year but there were a lot more booths for self-publishing companies, cults (Scientology had at least two booths) and products, including one for Volvo. 

This was the first year that I saw a couple having sex at the Festival. Granted, it was in the parking structure, but it still counts. It's nice to know that books still make some people hot.

After my panel signing, me, Craig Johnson, and Robert Dugoni went over to the tent selling our books and offered to sign the remaining stock. But they were already packing the stuff up. I suggested they might want to keep some signed stock around for people who couldn't make it to our panel. The clerk says "we aren't a bookstore, we're the School of Health Sciences. We don't sell books." Apparently, they were only making the books available for the panels and then immediately packing up the unsold stuff without even trying to sell it over the rest of the Festival. This seemed particularly dumb to me. Authors and readers lose out...and so did the School of Health Sciences, which missed out on lots of potential sales. See, in past years, B&N or Borders handled the panel signing sales...and kept the books available all weekend, which was great. It meant you didn't have to snag immediately after the panels... you could come back later...in fact, you could browse by several times during the course of the Festival and always find new stuff. I wonder why the UCLA Bookstore didn't handle the sales this time. In any case, I hope they find a bookseller...or at least someone who will behave like booksellers...next year. 

(You can see more of my Lee-centric book fest photos here. I took lots of shots of the MWA booth, and the MWA sponsored panels, for our friends on the MWA National Board.  I wanted to show them the big bang we got for our sponsorship bucks)

The End Game Has Got Game

My brother Tod's  BURN NOTICE: THE END GAME got a rave from Rod Lott at Bookgasm, who says, in part:

It is fun, capturing the show’s joyous, jubilant essence, but not, sadly, shots of well-endowed women in bikinis. [...]The book is quick, snappy and forever mirthful — just like its source material. And until that starts back up in the summer, this is a fine substitute for a weekly fix.

The Truth Hurts

I am ashamed to admit it, but everything my brother Tod is saying today on his blog about me and my sister Karen and our musical childhoods is true.

Helen Reddy, You and Me Against The World. Good christ, Karen played this song like she was earning royalties from it. The odd thing is that it's actually one of two songs Karen played constantly that contained a lyric about going to the circus. There was a lot of Helen Reddy played in the Goldberg home back in the day, which might make one think that I'd be enlightened into the ways of women and not, you know, as I am.

The Best 25 List Yet...

...comes from my brother Tod. It's "25 Random Things I Hate About F**ktards On Facebook I Don't Know In The Least But Who, Nonetheless, Are My 'Friends.'" Here are some of my laugh-out-loud favorites:

4. I hate that I know you just got home from work and are having a Lean Cuisine and watching your VHS collection of Benson reruns.

8. I hate that you have been stalking my sisters Linda and Karen and now suddenly figure out that even though they won't speak to you, it might be neat to become friends with me, and my brother, and my mother, and my cousin Mike, and my cousin Danny, and my uncle Burl, and my wife Wendy. And none of us know who the f**k you are. And so we email each other and say, "Who the f**k is Irene?" And we all agree that we don't know. And then we agree, after reading your profile, that you need mental help and need to scrapbook a whole lot f**king less than you do. 

24. I hate you, you dumb motherf**ker, who sent my agent a book and said that you were my friend and when she asked me, "Is this person your friend?" I said, "Uh, not that I know of." And then I got a wild idea and looked on facebook and there you were.

Top of his Game

My brother Tod's latest BURN NOTICE novel, THE END GAME, comes out in May and the cover has just been released. Looks good, doesn't it?

I Should Be Appointed Secretary of State Because My Mom Had Her Picture Taken With Gerald Ford

You know how much I like to trash publishing scams. Well, now my brother Tod is jumping into the fray with an expose of BK Nelson Literary Agency and their, um, "qualifications":

I can't think of a better reason to sign with BK Nelson other than she was associated with a law firm that, uh, had a partner whose daughter married Paul McCartney. If anyone can think of a stranger biographical note in an agent's bio, please, forward it to me. It's pretty much the equivalent of me saying you should buy my books because I once worked at a staffing service that sent temps to Disney (which was founded by Walt Disney).

Book Worming

My brother Tod does an amazing impersonation of KCRW's Bookworm host Michael Silverblatt. His impersonati0n is SO good, it's even amazing in print:

Silverblatt: Tod, I am struck by the power in your prose, the way words tumble from the page like mercury, like Jupiter, like Pluto, once a planet, but no more a planet, now just a bit of stardust, like your words, floating, inexorably, through, time. And yet, I find that your words are also like play-dough, in that when I eat them I find them at first...salty...yet...plain...and I found myself yearning for...bite...verve...only found in the works of people like Rilke, like Rick Springfield, whose girl, while Jessie's, was, in fact, no longer, like Pluto. Yes?

Me: I'm just happy to be on the show, Mike.

His account of his trip to the Vegas Valley Book Festival is pretty funny, too.

Lee & Tod at Barnes & Noble

My brother Tod and I signed our new books (MR. MONK GOES TO GERMANY and BURN NOTICE: THE FIX) at Barnes & Noble in Calabasas today. It will be our last event together until Men of Mystery in November. I'll let Tod tell you about the Really Stupid Conversation he had with an aspiring author...I have no doubt at all that he will be blogging about it in excruciating, and hilarious, detail. I practically bit through my tongue so I wouldn't laugh.

The store is a block from my house, so a lot of my neighbors showed up, which was nice, and so did actor Matt Kaminsky (who I have killed once on DIAGNOSIS MURDER and once on MARTIAL LAW), TV writer and blogger Lisa Klink, B&N's  West Coast Regional Community Relations Director Jan Lindstrom (who treated me to a lovely lunch), KTLA's Stephanie Edwards, and my sister Linda, who took this picture (I don't know what looks worse, letting my bad arm hang at my side or hiding it behind my back, where it looks like I am scratching my ass. If I was smart, I would have just put my hand in my pocket).

We sold a bunch of books but there are still plenty of signed copies on hand if your travels take you to Calabasas, or if you are one of the TMZ or tabloid photographers who hang out in the parking lot 24/7 waiting for Jessica Simpson, Pamela Anderson, Jennifer Aniston, Adam Sandler, Angelina Jolie, or any of the other stars who shop at The Commons.

Expanding Literacy through Narcissism

The front page of this Sunday's Los Angeles Times Calendar section features a big essay by my brother Tod discussing his experience writing BURN NOTICE: THE FIX and his research into the business of tie-in writing. I was approached to write the novels, but I declined and recommended Tod, who I knew was perfect for the job:

My brother was right: I was the perfect person. The only problem was my advanced sense of artistic self. I had long, twisting conversations with my agent, my wife and the kid who makes my sandwiches at Quiznos about the literary equity I'd accrued, about how writing a tie-in might somehow sully my career and other topics concerning my navel. My agent told me to take a deep breath, get lucid and call her back after I did some research...

So he did. Read his very funny article and find out what he learned.

UPDATE 8-25-2008: Tod's article got a surprisingly unsnarky mention on GAWKER, some love on TV Squad and some attention from Publisher's Weekly's Book Maven.

UPDATE 8-26-2008: TV Squad also gave Tod's book a rave review.

Get your fix of THE FIX

My brother Tod has posted a link to the first chapter of his new novel BURN NOTICE: THE FIX, which comes out nationwide next month. He also talks about some of the challenges he faced writing the book:

I would be lying if I said writing this book wasn't a challenge. It absolutely was. I've never written a traditional crime novel. Anyone who has read my work in the past will tell you that linear storytelling isn't exactly my calling card. Nor is having a narrator who is reliable. Of course I've written linear work in the past. And of course I've written reliable narrators in the past. But one thing I don't think I've ever written is a hero, even an ironic hero like Michael Westen. My characters tend to be pretty fucked up and of course Michael is fucked up in his own way, too, but not in the "he may have killed his wife and daughter" sort of way. The challenge for me was to convey him on the page in a way that made me enjoy writing him and also was true to Matt Nix's creation.

I think it's the best book my brother has ever written, but hey, I'm biased.

Mitzvah for Tod

My brother Tod's story "Mitzvah" in Akashic's anthology LAS VEGAS NOIR got a shout-out in a positive Publishers Weekly review today:

Columnist Tod Goldberg’s “Mitzvah” makes good use of the Las Vegas myth that people come to the city to bury their past identities and reinvent themselves. His antihero, mobster Sal Cuperine, has for years posed as Rabbi David Cohen, managing to handle the demands of the pulpit until the strain of his charade becomes too much to bear. 

Tod in the Times

My brother Tod's review of two new novels set in Las Vegas, both by first-time authors, appears on the front page of today's Los Angeles Times Calendar section.

What "Beautiful Children" and "The Delivery Man" share -- apart from the obvious thematic portrayal of Las Vegas as "Caligula" -- is, surprisingly, hope. Both Bock and McGinniss flash across the page with firm style, compelling voices and the desire to go deeper than their subject matter. Although neither of their novels has defined literary Las Vegas, both carry the imprint of burgeoning talent, and that is always worth gambling on.

Brotherly Love

My brother Tod has posted a list of five people who hate me -- and the reasons why they do. I was relieved he capped the list at only five and left out Tono Rondone.

UPDATE: My cousin Danny muses over why I'm so hated and reviews my book MR. MONK IN OUTER SPACE along the way...

My Brother Gets BURNED

Today, my brother Tod talks about his new, three-book deal to write original novels based on the USA Network series BURN NOTICE:

How this came about is how many things come about when you're not expecting them -- your brother calls you from a scratchy phone in Germany and says, "Hey, do you like the show Burn Notice?" You reply, "Yeah, I love it. It's like an Elmore Leonard novel crossed with Steven Soderbergh's direction and a dash of Albert Brooks' mother issues for good measure. Why?" And then twenty minutes later you're on the phone with your agent, 36 hours later you're making demands of the publisher, 72 hours later you're sitting down with Matt Nix [...]and you're discussing the show he created, Burn Notice, and then, about 100 hours later, you're figuring out just how on Earth you're going to meet your first deadline -- February -- without getting hooked on crank (again)

Book Burning

I've been so caught up doing  my movie, that I have fallen way behind on everything...and missed  my brother Tod's Jewcy column in late May on the Kansas City bookstore that burned it's entire stock of books as, the store owner  says, a "a funeral pyre for thought in America today" and as "a wakeup call to all who value books and ideas." My brother wrote:

If [the bookstore owners] don’t see the hypocrisy in their actions, perhaps they need only to look down the road a few miles at the Blue Valley School District, where debates raged over appropriate titles being offered to students, prompting the formation of the PABBIS-like ClassKC.org (Citizen for Literary Standards in Schools), a group with their own stringent ideas about literacy. If burning 20,000 books for the cause of literacy is an act of art, how does that art change if the belief system of the group changes? I have no doubt that [the bookstore owners] love books, just as I have no doubt that many of the parents who comprise ClassKC.org love books (or at least the Book), and thus I wonder: If the action is the same, does it matter what the cause is?  If ClassKC.org hosted a book burning in the name of literacy awareness in the schools of Blue Valley, too, the same books would burn.

The bigger question is... what the hell is going on in Kansas City?

Vicious Lies...and more than a little truth

I just stumbled on this old Las Vegas Mercury column my brother Tod wrote about the time I dragged him and my sister Linda to a science fiction convention in a horribly misguided attempt to sell copies of my book .357 VIGILANTE. A lot of his column is, um, fictionalized...but it doesn't matter because it's very funny:

  "It takes place in a futuristic L.A.," I said to the man in the "V" uniform who'd stopped to handle the book.

  "Yeah? Are there aliens?"

  "Only illegal ones," I said. When I was 14, I thought this was a pretty funny thing to say.

  "I only read books with real aliens in them," he said, setting the book down.

  "You're an idiot," my sister said from behind her magazine. It was the first time Linda had spoken for at least an hour.

  "Pardon me?" the man said.

  "You said you only read books with `real aliens' in them and I said that you're an idiot," Linda said, still not looking up.

  "You're very rude," he said.

  "'V'  was canceled," Linda said, "just FYI."

He forgot to mention in the column that both he and Linda contracted chicken pox at the convention. I came out unscathed. My brother and sister, sadly, were emotionally scarred for life.

"Oh, my naughty love, Tod thought. Where could you be?"

My Brother Tod is having lots of fun messing with the fanfic crowd over at Fandom Wank:

Just wanted to pop in to say that, no matter how much you hate Lee or me, I've enjoyed reading all of this and several other posts beneath this one. You guys are exceptionally funny. That you point out the general fucktardery of your particular world is something I can get behind. I'm hooked. Now, will someone write something about me where I'm involved with Dave Navarro, Carmen Elektra and a dagget from the original BSG? Seriously. You write it, I'll put it on my blog. Just make me skinnier and more handsome than I am.

And they've done it.  Tod is brilliant.

They Hate Me, They Really Really Hate Me

My brother Tod stumbled on a seething horde of  people who really, really hate me and he couldn't be happier about it.

They are fucking hysterical. I mean this. I laughed my ass off reading about their hatred of Lee, their dubious thoughts on me (they are particularly upset with my poor grammar and word choice and misogyny, which is basically what Wendy is upset with me about on a fairly regular basis, but someone liked "Simplify" which thrilled me, as that is, and always has been, my favorite story)  and then their rants on other topics happening in and around fandom. I spent about thirty minutes reading this website and I about pissed myself. I've actually bookmarked it.

UPDATE (2-19-2007): Tod only scraped the surface. There's much more Lee-hating to enjoy.

Links A-Go-Go

I've been away in New York for a few days at the Mystery Writers  of America board meeting and am just now catching up on my favorite blogs. Ordinarily, I'd build whole posts around some of the stuff I've found...but I'm too lazy. So you will have to see for yourself what Emmy Award-winning writer Ken Levine has to say about Aaron Sorkin's dig that he wasn't a "real" comedy writer.  And you'll have to experience for yourself the utterly bizarre "Galactica-A Team-V" crossover fanfic that my brother Tod stumbled upon.

32 Flavors of Awesome

Some yahooer sent me this link to a Live Journal blog post that mentions yours truly. I don't know about you, but I think it was my brother Tod who sent it to me:

Also, totally love Tod Goldberg. He's the brother of Lee Goldberg, known for throwing periodic hissy fits over the existence of fanfic. But while Lee is an asshat, Tod is a brilliant writer. His blog is wonderful, and his short-story collection "Simplify" is . . . umm, lots of good things that I am not qualified to elaborate on. I am usually not a fan of straight fiction, because I hate reading about normal people doing normal things, but Tod Goldberg is 32 flavours of awesome.

She's right... I am an asshat and Tod is a brilliant writer. But I'm thinner and have a lot less body hair.

My Brother Is Too Damn Funny

My brother Tod's Letters to Parade feature on his blog should be a book. But until that happens, you'll just have to visit his blog every Monday for the latest hilarious installment. This week's is one of my favorites. Here's an excerpt:

In the case of G. Martinez of Jamaica, NY, the fetish is James Bond. And G. has a very important question so that he or she can finally complete their very special project:

As a James Bond fan, I'd like to know who was the tallest 007.

This question has obviously been edited. What the crack editorial staff of Parade snipped off when they created this stupid fucking question when they realized they didn't have anything on Bond in Personality Parade on the weekend before the opening of the latest installment, was this:

It is very important that I get the exact measurements of whichever Bond this was  -- I hope it was Lazenby! Oh, how I have longed for Lazenby! -- as I am building a cage in which the actor could live. Additionally, I'm creating a suit made of skin I've stripped every day from my thighs, the bottom of my feet and that space between my plumbing so that Mr. Lazenby could wear me like a tuxedo, a very snug tuxedo, covered with the aroma of my glands. Please, could you also tell me if any of the actors who played Bond are claustrophobic? And it would be very helpful if I could get the address and phone number of the gentleman who played Jaws in the Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker.

Walter Scott probably never even saw this part of the question because, well, he doesn't exist.

I Love It When Tod Gets Hate Mail

My brother Tod gets the most amusing hate mail from the strangest people:

You're perhaps the most unlikable, trivial, angry person I've ever read online. You would be an incredibly successful female middle-school student. Try inserting a few spurious capital letters and misspelling (more) words, and you could fit right in at MySpace. Your photograph looks very Arabic and not very Jewish, and it's also extremely creepy. Some people were born to write (not you) and some born to be photographed (not you, either).

Naturally my Arabic-looking brother, who clearly has too much time on his hands since my Mom moved from his neighborhood to mine, responded right away and asked the writer to be his mentor. He wrote, in part:

My mother and father, while both Jewish, were apparently quite ugly, which lead to the unfortunate photo of me you saw that apparently makes me me look Arabic. I guess looking Arabic would be a bad thing? I'm sorry if my Fertile Crescent appearance in that photo doesn't please you, my mentor, but I assure you that there are other photos of me online where I look Italian, which might please you. There are also some where I look Persian, which probably wouldn't please you too much. Others still make me look like a Russian Jew, which I am, but that might make you think I'm a Communist. I assure you, Neal, I love America and am not a Commie. I do like Russian dressing, but only on a certain chicken dish...

[...]I'm sad that you find me the most unlikable person online. That means you've never visited my brother's blog. He could use your help, too, Neal, to see the way out of failure toward success. [...]Will you be my life coach? Will you teach me how to write midnight letters to novelists who you stumble upon while searching for the lyrics to The Ballad Of Irving? That was you, wasn't it Neal? Writing me from the Lutheran Medical Center in Denver? Neal, I feel safe in saying that I need you in my life now more than ever.

Neal immediately wrote back:

Now, the most important part of my advice. Masturbate one more time (it's the closest you'll come to  losing your virginity) and then kill yourself. Don't stretch it out for twenty-odd more years of sucking dick to pay for your meth, getting turned down by crack whores, and constantly referring to your family as if anyone knows them. Just get it over with.

I am not kidding, the world will thank you. Your funeral will be a party, and we'll enjoy dancing around your unmarked cardboard box.

Neal also cc'd his lawyer on his reply, which is the perfect punchline to the whole thing.  I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard at a blog post (though it was probably one of Tod's famous Letters to Parade columns).

East of Bizarro

My brother Tod just returned from speaking at  the East of Eden writers conference in Salinas, California where he had some hilarious encounters with aspiring writers. He lists a few of them on his blog. Here's a sampling:

3. Number of writers who attempted to present me with velobound manuscripts: 9

4. Number of writers who asked me to write their ideas: 4

5. A conversation with a very nice woman who wanted some advice on her short story:

Woman: I think my short story would make a great musical.

Me: Uh, okay.

Woman: I've already written all the lyrics and am adapting it for a movie musical.

Me: What was the last musical you saw?

Woman: Oh, I can't remember the last time I saw a great musical. They don't make great musicals anymore.

Me: Then why do you think a movie studio would want to make a musical out of your short story?

Woman: It's a universal story, I write wonderful songs, it would be just a great musical. My screenwriting teacher at the junior college thinks so, too.

Me: What kind of movies does your screenwriting teacher make?

Woman: Documentaries and technical films for businesses.

I was a keynote speaker at the same conference a few years ago, shortly after one of the surgeries on my arm. Just before I went on stage, I spilled an entire slice of chocolate cake in my lap. I tried to wash it off and only made myself look like someone with both a severe bladder control problem and irritable bowels. Nothing earns you respect and admiration when you're standing in front of hundreds of people like a pair of soiled pants.

Fistful of Laughs

I absolutely love my brother Tod's "Letters to Parade" feature on his blog. I never miss it ... even now, while I'm toiling in Berlin (he really has to gather them all together  into a book).  Today's edition was so funny, I almost wet myself:

Exhibit B: Dan Travers of Cincinnati, Ohio. Mr. Travers, you insipid fucktard, I ask you:  When was the last time you saw a bunch of 65 year olds performing A Chorus Line?

When A Chorus Line returns to Broadway next month, will it feature any members of the original 1975 cast?

Yes, Dan, they are all returning. Even though they are collectively 1239 years old, the entire original cast is planning on stuffing their sagging appendages into the leotards once again to reprise their roles from THIRTY ONE FUCKING YEARS AGO. What is wrong with you, Dan? I mean, really? Where's the disconnect between reality and whatever it is you're living in? Is there anything you did especially well in 1975 that you'd want people to see you doing today? Even the writer of A Chorus Line, James Kirkwood, is dead. Do you want him to reprise his role, too?

And that's just a sample of the fun and frolic awaiting you at Tod's blog today.

Tod Finds Self-Published POD Gem

My brother Tod Goldberg has reviewed DANCING ON THE FLY ASH, a self-published P.O.D. book, in his Las Vegas City Life column:

It's a sad state of affairs, however, that the one book spawned from a blog that actually succeeds has gone virtually unnoticed: Dancing On Fly Ash by Matt Bell and Josh Maday.

The differences between Bell and Maday and their blog brethren is they are actually fiction writers, unlike Cutler, who slept with a lot of people, and Cox, who is a fine journalist but not a fine fiction writer (it's not a trait that is easily shared), and their blog (found at dancingonflyash.com) is a daily splash of flash creativity: Each day, in 100 words or less, either Bell or Maday writes a complete short story. Dancing On Fly Ash collects the best 62 of these entries and the result is both exciting and frustrating -- exciting in that the best of these short-short-short stories packs the emotional wallop of a novel and frustrating because several stories beg for more than the form allows.

The stories veer from the dramatic to the poignant to the absurd, the best of which contain all three styles.

Naturally, the authors were thrilled by the review:

This is the first review for our book, so I can’t help but be excited, especially since it’s mostly positive.  It’s so hard to get a self-published book reviewed in the first place, much less by an author of Goldberg’s stature.  We’re very thankful to him for his encouragement and support.