As
usual, I’m not going to spill the pot. But here are a few snippets from early
readers of this vibrant offering:
“...If you love fantasy
mixed with social satire this is a must read!...”
“...a collection of
linked stories chocked full of absorbing characters and compelling prose....”
“...It's a playful,
imaginative, and compelling novel that mixes fantasy with history and a deep
love of L.A....”
“...Incredibly diverse
and intriguing characters make the book kick all kinds of ass in all sorts of
different directions....”
“...Urban Fantasy and Magical
Realism are elevated to new levels with Immortal LA....”
And Eric has agreed to pop over
and address some of my random hypothetical questions, which follow after his
bio:
Eric Czuleger is from Los Angeles. He got a degree
in acting from Cal State Fullerton. He came back to Los Angeles to be a
founding member and resident playwright of Coeurage Theatre Company. He left
Los Angeles again to be a Peace Corps Volunteer in Northern Albania. While
overseas he wrote ten installments of “Live Theatre Blog” a monthly play about
Albanian life that was performed in Hollywood and live streamed around the
world. His other plays include, Falling
Dreams, Moonburn, Craigslist: Last Posts/Last Days, Head Over Heels, L.A. Lights Fire, and No.
Saints Lane.
Immortal L.A. is his first novel. Eric is currently working on
his second novel Farnoosh as well as Our
Crowded Skies: a live theatre documentary about UFO culture in America.
Thanks for coming over Eric – my first hypothetical question is this: during
an episode of low self esteem Satan has succumbed to advice from his Motivational Life Coach and agreed to marry a Reiki master who supplements her art with
crystals and aromatherapy. Rumor has it she doesn’t prune her pits. You are in
charge of Satan’s bachelor party and so it’s up to you to make his latter hours
as fulsome as possible. Where will you take him? Will you try to counsel him
and his predicament? What pranks do you have in store once you’ve gotten him
sufficiently intoxicated?
I’m
glad you asked. Satan has become a good friend of mine in recent years. He’s
not without his foibles, but who is? We would go to the bar at the Standard
Hotel. Not the public bar, the secret bar under the pool where all cellphones
are confiscated at the door by an albino bouncer. Satan can get us in, he knows
the password. He knows every password.
We
would line up shots with Kanye West and Jeff Goldblum (they’re good friends,
it’s well known in Hollywood). After getting a solid buzz on we would retire
into the lower bowels of the bar and watch underground cage fighting, cheering
along noisily as the lower classes pummel each other for our amusement. When one of the
cage fighters has beaten the other into a leaking sack of bone shards and saliva,
we’ll give Satan the final say in whether the final blow is delivered or not.
He’ll give a thumbs down and retire to purchase some nachos from the concession
stand.
While
he’s gone, we’ll rufie his drink, and leave him naked in the middle of East L.A.
Quite by accident, you shoot dead two religious callers on your
doorstep. The AK-47 you used is not registered and so things are a bit tricky
admin-wise. But then again, it’s not as though you can actually *kill most of
these callers, given the eternal life policy they have built in, so that just
leaves their old shells to dispose of. How would you deal with the aftermath?
I’m an
American. They were on my property. They came right at me with knives and
opinions. That’s what I saw any way. I don’t know what you saw. I’ll call the
authorities and pay the registration for the gun. They’ll gladly drag the corpses off
for me – they seem to love collecting them.
A post on your Facebook page goes viral because of the
implications of an unfortunate typo. It has inflamed and divided world leaders
to the point that global nuclear war is imminent. The real estate market has
shifted to providing bunkers and have offered you a courtesy bunker in
recognition of your contribution to market recovery in their field. You only
have a few liters of luggage allowance so what are you going to pack in your
“cabin trunk” to see you through the Apocalypse?
I’ll take and setup a radio broadcasting rig. I’ll lecture twenty-four hours a day about the
Tribulation and become a self-stylized prophet/cult leader. The survivors will
flock to me to pay tribute. All those that refuse to tithe will be crushed by
my faithful legions.
It’s 15 years later and the survivors have just returned to the
surface and are in the process of forming a government. Anyone with an iPad can
run for mayor. What inducements and benefits would *you offer the masses to get
them to vote for you?
I think
I would bow out of this particular scenario. I would never want to be
democratically elected. There is too much political red-tape and party pleasing
to be done. For me it’s ruling a fiefdom of theocratic zealots with an iron
fist or nothing.
Yes…that makes sense; after all you have total mind control of
the masses – so we’ll assume you win the election for mayor without even having
registered. In fact you rule the whole northern hemisphere (plus you’re looking
to expand).
Anyway, moving on… Your old buddy Satan has laid claim to your couch
after matrimony morphed into acrimony. See, Eric, if you had talked him out of
getting married in question #one while you were at the bachelor party you
wouldn’t have this issue to deal with – there’s a lesson in there somewhere –
but the question is, how to broach the ugly subject of his incongruous presence, now
that you’re the supreme leader of the northern hemisphere.
As
supreme leader? Honestly, I would deal with Satan in the same way that I deal
with all personal problems. I would avoid the topic entirely, until
pleasantries were replaced by long cannibalizing silences. We would talk less
and less as the elephant in the room stamped its feet and trumpeted in
disapproval. Eventually Satan and I would grow farther and farther apart – until
we would avoid each other if we crossed paths while shopping at Trader Joes.
Years
later we may message each other on whichever social media apparatus has come
into vogue.
“What
happened to us… all those years ago?” Satan would ask.
“I
don’t know. I was being immature. I thought that since I had formed a religious
dictatorship and a cult of personality that I didn’t have to deal with my
problems any more.”
“You
just kind of disappeared.”
“I
know. But I’m here now. Do you want to get a cup of coffee and catch up?” I
would ask. Satan would send a smiley emoticon.
“I
would like that. I would like that a lot,” he would say.
I would
push back from my computer and remember the good old days of watching cage
matches with Satan and taking shots with Kanye and Jeff Goldblum. Then I would
make two of my acolytes fight to the death for my amusement.
~
~ ~
Thanks
for taking part Eric! Readers: Click HERE to preview and purchase the outstanding novel, Immortal L.A.
at Amazon – Stef wouldn’t steer you wrong…
Thank you for reading this article.
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Why do I feel I just attended a fantastic cocktail party where my drink was laced with something? Best interview (questions & answers) I have read in a long time. Thoroughly amused. Must think on it to see if there is actually something of intellectual value here. Should keep me occupied for hours upon hours. Love the interview, love the book!
ReplyDeleteThanks! Glad it was as fun to read as take part in.
ReplyDeleteThe intellectual takeaway from this is that, when in charge of a bachelor party you should always make it clear to the prospective groom that A). He still has time to run - and B). Once he's made his bed he can't seek the sanctuary of your couch if it turns out he's bought a pup...
I would vote for you... wait, strike that since you're not running... um, I mean, I would blindly follow you in your self-styled post-apocalyptic paradise! Great interview! Great book!
ReplyDelete